


the city of illusions, the city of yearning

by elisewin



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: M/M, University AU, because let's be real us italians are always talking about food, erasmus au, loads of mentions of food, the others will appear later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisewin/pseuds/elisewin
Summary: The whole point of going on a student exchange program is to meet people from different countries, learn about different cultures and so on.Isak, of course, falls in love with another Norwegian while in Rome.





	1. Trastevere

**Author's Note:**

> so. uhm.  
> I wanted to write something but I've never been to Norway before so I decided to set the whole thing in my hometown,  
> A lot of uni students in Europe go in Erasmus, which is basically a student exchange program that lets you go to a uni in a different European country for some months. 
> 
> also I suck at titles but this is apparently a quote about Rome by Giotto (the title I have on google docs is "erasmus???" which feels way more appropriate). 
> 
> this is for Angela, who's a great friend who once wrote me "I'm glad I've ruined your life with Skam".

 

Isak is not sure this is how things are supposed to go. When he was first handled the pamphlet about the Erasmus, it said something about the importance of the programme because it helped young european people get together with students from all over the Continent. Now, it is his second week there, it is a Saturday, and he and Jonas are in the apartment of a Norwegian guy with four other Norwegian people. 

 

Of course, the reason why there were going to stay in Rome for the next nine months was all Jonas's fault. He had been talking non stop about the Erasmus since the first day of University, probably even before that. He discussed locations and pros and cons of every single capital city in Europe with Isak for weeks before applying, and in the end he convinced Isak to do that too. Isak applied because he felt sure he wasn't going to get in. But he did. He was in thanks to his high grades, because apparently linguistic skills weren’t that important. He was going to go to Rome, with Jonas. He was going to live 2500 kms away from home for nine whole months. He had never left for more than a week before. 

He wasn't sure he was going to leave, at first. It took him a long time to fix things with his parents, to finally have if not a good at least a  _ decent  _ relationship with both of them, and now he felt guilty at the idea of going away for so many months. But both his mom and dad were his biggest supporters, telling him that going away for a while was only going to do him good. Meeting new people, widening his horizons. 

 

And so here he is, in a room with other five norwegians, and his best friend. Isak isn't sure this counts as widening his horizons. They're also at a walking distance from the apartment he and Jonas rented. The epitome of laziness, here it is what it is. 

Eskild, the apartment owner, is a friend of a friend of Jonas who moved to Rome after graduating from uni. The other people are all Erasmus students, and two of them even went to the same high school Jonas and Isak went to. He pretends to remember their faces, but Isak doesn't, really. His three years of high school were such a mess he doesn't remember much else than the people in his circle of friends. Which mostly consisted of Jonas. Then there's a girl from Bergen, and another one from a town so small Isak has never even heard of, but who studies in Oslo. And here they are, in this tiny apartment in Trastevere, drinking beer after beer, and talking about their majors and their struggle with the italian language, since they all started their italian beginners class on Wednesday. 

That damn class is also the reason why Isak has accepted to come to this party in the first place. Jonas doesn't know, because having spoken Spanish his whole life, he had picked up Italian easily before leaving, and he is one of the few erasmus students in the advanced class. So, on the first day, the teacher had explained how to say "hello, my name is, and I come from.", and everyone had to repeat that. Isak, of course, had already laid his eyes on a boy who sat two rows in front of him. And, of course, of fucking course, the guy was Norwegian. And his name was Even. Isak doesn't know anything else about him. So, when Jonas said that this Eskild guy was having a party with other Norwegian people, Isak had gotten all his hopes up. He could've easily talked to him at class, or sat next to him when he saw him again on Friday, but Isak was terrible at this. Isak was terrible at a lot of things, and picking up  people probably ranked first on that list. He thought that the awkward phase was going to go away after he had turned 20, but now Isak is 21 and he doesn’t feel any different from when he was 16. So, on Friday, he stood on the doorway a long time before both seats next to Even were filled and Isak sat somewhere else, near a German girl who, by the end of the class, had added Isak on facebook and he can’t even remember why that happened. He was probably staring at Even when she asked him if she could add him and he had said yes because he had no idea of what she was saying. 

Clearly no good thing is coming out of this Erasmus so far, Isak thinks as he opens his third bottle of beer. Except the extremely cheap beer, that is. And the warm weather. It is the end of september and the windows are open, letting in the warm air from the outside, the smell of the pizza baking in the restaurant downstairs. 

"Everything's fine?" Jonas asks, because Jonas immediately notices when Isak is lost in his thoughts and when Isak is not having fun and, honestly, it is a miracle Jonas still can't read his mind. 

"Yeah. Yeah, everything’s great,” Isak says. 

"Something's wrong home?" This is his standard question, it has been for a few years now, and in this particular period in their lives more than ever before, because Jonas feels a bit guilty for dragging Isak on this adventure. He told him so while they were on the plane, only 15 days before. 

"No, no, everything's fine with mom," he answers. Jonas nods, smiling. 

One of the girls, Isak thinks she’s called Noora, is telling a story about her year living abroad in Spain, and Jonas chimes in with his own experiences, stories about his family and friends there and Isak zones out again. 

He had tried to look for Even on facebook, but it was impossible to do so with only a first name and probably no friends in common. He would've remembered him if he went to Nissen, it was hard to forget a face like that one. He couldn't even be sure he was from Oslo, because in that first lesson he only said that he came from Norway. He didn't hear him speak Norwegian long enough to recognize his accent. Maybe he should have accepted the invite of that French guy who was probably hitting on him in Biology the other day and go with him to the Erasmus party near Uni. Or maybe Even doesn't go out at all and is spending his Saturday night binge-watching something on Netflix. Or maybe - well, maybe Isak should simply speak to him on Monday and find out by himself instead of fantasizing about him while he should listen to his best friend telling strangers about that time they got drunk while they were in Berlin last year. Those were good times.

 

Of course, he can't bring himself to do it on Monday. It is hard because Even seems to have found already a group of friends and Isak has no idea how he could introduce himself without appearing too lame. So he just doesn't. He sits in the row right behind them, though, so he can listen to whatever they're talking about - which is, of course, not half as lame as introducing himself to the group and get this whole crazy thing over with. 

After one hour the teacher gives them a pause, and Isak remembers he has promised his dad the other day he was going to update him on how things were going. So he writes,  _ Everything's fine. Went to a party the other night with other norwegians, we're doing this integration thing all wrong. Today i'm learning numbers in Italian though. _

"Ehy, you, sorry?" He can hear someone talking in Norwegian but Isak is not sure they're talking to him. He hits send and looks away from his phone and at that point he sees Even, who turned and he's now looking right at Isak. "You're - you're Norwegian, right?" Isak nods. "I was - I was telling them about Russ, you know. But I don’t know how to explain it well. Do you think there's an English word for it?" 

"Uh - I - I don't think so, no. That's just a Norwegian thing." Even smiles. 

"Right. Thank you." Even turns back to his friends and goes back to speaking English, and Isak tries to concentrate on the answer his dad has just sent him. He has to read it four times before understanding any of it. 

 

The apartament him and Jonas rented is in Trastevere, which isn't that close to uni but they both fell in love with the neighborhood, the way they felt the first time they walked through the narrow streets, all the little cornes that seemed to come straight out of postcards; it was love at first sight for both of them. T hey both figured out that it wouldn't have been that bad, the underground is not so far and it arrives directly to uni. Truth is, Isak hates the unpredictability of the Roman public transport after a week. At first it feels like an adventure, not knowing when the bus is going to arrive and learning a big variety of swear words in Italian as people try to get on full buses, but it isn’t fun when you have to wake up half an hour earlier just to be sure of arriving to classes on time. Jonas hates it too but, unlike Isak who keeps on complaining, he buys a bike. With that and the fact that they don't have a single class in common, they hardly ever see each other during the week, if not for a quick lunch at campus. Some days they’re joined by people who are surprisingly not norwegian and sometimes not even scandinavian. That Friday there’s a girl from Isak’s chemistry class who is spanish and Isak immediately regrets inviting her because her and Jonas starts speaking their damn language and he can’t get a single thing they’re saying. It is right in that moment, when he’s internally cursing himself for it, that Even enters the canteen with his group of friends from Italian class. He briefly looks at Isak, waves at him and then gets back to his conversation, so casually, as if it had happened a million times before. As if, like, they’re  _ friends _ . Isak stares into his pasta before Jonas is finally speaking English again and telling Isak how sorry he is they got lost in their Spanish conversation. 

“No problem,” Isak says, but really, he’s lying. There are lot of problems in his life right in that moment. 

 

They follow Eskild’s plans again that weekend. On Saturday, they all go to a party organized by another university, and the positive thing is that Isak is sure he’s not going to meet Even there. It is also the negative side of it, though. But there’s alcohol, there’s an hot guy who’s a friend of Eskild who’s willing to make out with Isak, so really, in the end it isn’t all that bad. And, at least, him and Jonas are starting to  _ interact  _ with people who aren’t norwegians. On Sunday Isak can barely remember how they made it back home. He’s supposed to do some homework for Italian class the next day, and he has promised himself he would have started to study for chemistry too, but he can hardly make it out of his bed. 

 

It is Monday when Even speaks to Isak again. 

Isak makes it quite early to Italian class that day, so almost all the seats are still empty. Isak is writing a note on his phone to remind himself to buy some food that isn’t fries or pizza or pre-made dishes, when someone sits next to him. 

“Mom’s driving me crazy,” says the person, who is Eva, the girl from Bergen who was at Eskild’s the week before. Isak is not sure he has seen her in class before, but he hasn’t really noticed many people who weren’t Even last week. 

“Why?” He asks politely, saving the note on his phone (he even wrote the word  _ salad  _ in it). 

“She’s coming to Rome for a work meeting next week and she’s already planning every single free moment she has with me, when I barely know what I’m going to do this afternoon.” 

“I sadly do. Need to do grocery shopping.” 

“Ugh, me too,” she complains, she’s about to say something else when Even appears out of nowhere and says

“Wow, thought that Isak and I were the only norwegians in the class.” And then sits next to Eva. Even knows his name.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Eva,” she says. 

“Even.” Simple as that. Isak can’t believe it was  _ that  _ easy.  _ Even knows his name. _

 

By the end of the lesson, he has added Eva on facebook and discovered that Even doesn’t have one but is apparently a big fan of emails (could’ve been worse. Like, actual  _ handwritten letters _ . But who is Isak kidding, he would have agreed to send him letters with a fucking pidgeon), and that he is indeed from Oslo. So Isak doesn’t have his number but he has his email address. “In case we need to send each other, like, homeworks and stuff” (because of course, not only he doesn’t have facebook, he doesn’t even think about getting whatsapp or imessage or any other messaging app). 

Isak is desperate. How do you write a random email? Can he simply write  _ Hi, how are you doing _ ? No, he needs to think of something funny. Can he send memes via mail? He only ever writes emails to professors, so he has no idea how this is informal email thing is supposed to work. 

He tries not to think about it as he walks down the aisles of the supermarket - with Eva, who is a normal person and has a facebook and messaged him if they could go together because she hates grocery shopping and maybe not being alone could make it a bit more pleasant? So here they are, picking vegetables and fruits and promising each other they’re going to eat healthy for the rest of the week (the weekend doesn’t count, of course). 

And he tries not to think about it as he gets back home, two bags full, as he blames himself and Jonas for choosing an apartment in a building without elevator. 

 

“Hypothetically speaking, do you think that if a unimate gives another unimate his email address instead of his number is because he wants to keep the distance or he’s just plain weird?” Truth is, he tries not to think about it but he fails. So Isak decides to tell Jonas at dinner. In his own way. Since he came out to Jonas a few years earlier, he has always told him everything, and even when he didn’t, Jonas guessed it anyway, so. Isak has no choice.

“ _ Hypothetically speaking _ ,” Jonas repeats, looking suspicious.  

“Sure. I was - like, listening to a conversation in class.” For the first time since they arrived in Rome and moved to the apartment, there are vegetables on the table that aren’t potatoes. Isak is proud of his cooking skills. He even sent a picture to Eva, who replied with one of her sad salad and a selfie of her sad face. Isak, at least, cooked some chicken. “I mean, I only ever send emails to my professors. Who sends emails to  _ friends _ ? Are we in the 90s? Is this some kind of You got Mail shit?” 

“You sound incredibly invested for a story that doesn’t involve you personally,” Jonas notes. Isak answers in the only way he knows in these situations - by rolling his eyes. 

“Please, keep on pretending this doesn’t involve me personally. It is less embarrassing that way.” 

“Okay, so. I need more information about this hypothetical person.” 

“He… hypothetically doesn’t have facebook. Not does he use any kind of social media. Nor any messaging app.” 

“Okay, what else?” 

“He said, of course this is always in the realm of hypothesis, that he gives people his email address so we can share with him homeworks and that kind of stuff that doesn’t fit in a text message.” 

“I say, hypothetically of course, try to write him and see how that goes,” it’s what Jonas says after a few minutes of silence. 

 

> 00:10 
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: hi! 
> 
>  
> 
> Hi Even. 
> 
> I was just noticing we both are severely lacking of fantasy when it comes to choosing email names. 
> 
> Can emails be only a couple of lines long? it feels weird. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you had a nice day. 
> 
>  
> 
> your fellow citizen
> 
> Isak
> 
>  
> 
> 00:30
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: isak you’ve got mail! 
> 
>  
> 
> dear fellow citizen, 
> 
> it’s great to hear from you. i don’t know about you but i love getting emails, especially when they’re not from professors informing me about due essays and all that. 
> 
> i used to have an embarrassing email handle when i was younger. not that i’m going to tell you anything about it, just trust me. it was truly embarrassing. 
> 
> i hope you’ll have a nice day tomorrow, i don’t know which classes you have (i just realized we haven’t talked about our majors which is supposed to be the first topic of conversations. but, alas, homesickness won.) 
> 
>  
> 
> your friend with no social media
> 
> even 
> 
>  
> 
> ps title of course is a joke. we know each other already in real life and we don’t hate each other. 
> 
>  

Isak reads the email for ten times before deciding that he doesn’t want to look that desperate and he goes to sleep instead of replying. He reads again the next morning while having breakfast. Jonas has no early classes that day so Isak can’t ask him any advice. He thinks he’ll write when he’ll get on the underground, but the train is so packed Isak can barely breath, let alone take out his phone out of his jacket. First class is chem lab, no phones allowed. 

He takes out his laptop for the next one. 

 

> 11:15 
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Can’t find a funny movie reference sorry
> 
>  
> 
> Even,
> 
> I’m currently in my Immunology class. This should help you understand what I’m majoring in. What about you? 
> 
> Anyway I now will probably bother you everyday until you tell me what your old handle was. I, of course, have never had such thing. 
> 
>  
> 
> your boring ex-teenager friend
> 
> Isak 

 

He types “I’m going to lunch with my roommate, want to join us?” in at least 15 different variations but in the end Isak gives up and cancels the sentence all together.

>   
>    
> 
> 
> 11:40 
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: doctor scott!! 
> 
>  
> 
> so are you a future doctor? immunology sounds something doctors would study. but i don’t really see you as a doctor. 
> 
> i, of course, study to become a social media manager. i’m actually on facebook 24/7 but i’m there under a fake name (the same of my old email handle, of course). 
> 
> jokes aside, let me just tell you that cinecittà used to be the hollywood of the 50s. so, here’s my hint. 
> 
>  
> 
> your friend who hates capitalization 
> 
> even 

 

Isak has to google what Cinecittà is. He’s not sure he wants to tell Even just yet that he’s not that into movies and that he had no idea that in Rome some of the major American movies were shot once - well, except maybe for Roman Holidays, because everyone knows Roman Holidays even if they haven’t seen it. And Isak hasn’t seen it. He will confess it to Even when they will be together and have a house on the sea and grandchildren coming over. 

>  
> 
> 12:30
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Not A Doctor 
> 
>  
> 
> Even,
> 
> You’re right, not a future doctor. Technically speaking, though, once you graduate you are a Doctor no matter if you studied medicine or not, so you’re not completely wrong. You, on the other hand, made things a bit too easy for me because I guess you are studying cinema? 
> 
> Anyway I don’t know what is wrong with poor capitalized letters. You are truly weird. 
> 
>  
> 
> I’m too hungry now so 
> 
> bye 
> 
>  
> 
> Isak
> 
>  

“So how is this whole email thing going?” Jonas asks at lunch, once they sit down with their tray. 

“Good, I guess. He’s - he’s kind of funny,” Isak answers, all of a sudden extremely interested in what there’s in his plate. 

“I can’t believe you still have these reactions when you have a crush. You never change.” 

“Ehy, should we talk about that time last year when you made me fly all the way to Berlin because of -” 

“I would prefer not to.” There’s a moment of silence, both of them thinking about that trip that, even though it didn’t end positively on the romantic side for Jonas, was the best trip they took together. “What does he do?” Jonas speaks again then, taking them back to the present moment and Isak’s ridiculous crush. 

“He studies cinema? Something like that. And for some reasons he hates capitalization.” 

“Well, I think I like him already then. There’s nothing wrong with subverting grammar rules, Isak.” 

“You two would totally get along,” Isak says, rolling his eyes. “I’m inviting him next time so you two can bond on your hate for rules.”. 

“You won’t, though, because you’ll chicken out like you did today.” 

Isak is about to reply when their conversation gets interrupted by Eva and Noora, who both sit at their table, and Isak is kind of glad he doesn’t have to make up a stupid excuse because the truth is, yes, he chickened out. 

 

> 22:00
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com) ,  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> From:  [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Invitation 
> 
> files attached: myplaceongooglemaps.jpg 
> 
>  
> 
> Ehy guys 
> 
> wanted to do a group chat but then realized that someone here doesn’t have social medias (Even you’re the weirdest, let me tell you). So here I am, asking you both if you want to come to a party I’m having on Friday at my place. Surprisingly also non-norwegians will be there. 
> 
> See you guys in class tomorrow anyway! :) 
> 
>  
> 
> 22:10 
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com) ,  [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com)
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: a little party never killed nobody
> 
>  
> 
> eva 
> 
> i thought we were friends.  i’m wounded.
> 
> i’m going to be there anyway. 
> 
> and this is way more fun than a group chat, everyone has those. no one has a group email.
> 
>  

 

> 22:20
> 
> To:   [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com) ,  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Won’t bother with a decent title for this bc i’m tired
> 
>  
> 
> Even, no one has group emails now but I guess everyone had these in like, 1996. My mom told me something about it. 
> 
> Eva, I’m going to be there.
> 
> See you guys tomorrow!   
>    
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably no one will believe me but i wrote the first email exchange the day before the email thing appeared on the Skam website.  
> anyway i'm also on tumblr @ books-figuero if you want to discuss how terrible public transport is in Rome (or anything else really).


	2. San Lorenzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " I can’t believe we all came all the way down here to meet people we could’ve easily met in our town."

Isak is not nervous. He totally isn’t.

It is Friday, and he has seen Even already in class that morning, but class is a thing and a party with the freedom of speaking without any professor interrupting your conversations with boring grammar lessons is another one. They exchanged a lot of emails over the past few days, all on the same light tone, Even has suggested some movies (the list was called “movies about Rome that are more realistic than Gladiator”), Isak has sent him pictures of his culinary experiments with Jonas, and Even didn’t have to guess which was Isak’s major because Isak let it slip during class on Wednesday.

“You look nervous,” Jonas notes, as they sit on the bus to reach Eva’s place.

“I’m not,” he says, even though he knows that lying to Jonas is pointless. Jonas is well aware of how much time Isak spent in his bedroom looking for the right thing to wear. He ended up realizing that there was no such thing as a right thing to wear and choose something simply because he was sure he hadn’t wear it before in class. The hard thing about living abroad is that you run out of clothes you’ve never worn before in front of the same people pretty quickly. “We should go shopping one of these days,” he says to Jonas then.

“Okay? Nice change of subject?”

“Believe it or not, in my head it wasn’t a change of subject but a logical follow-up.”

“I see. You want to buy nice clothes for Even.”

“Do you mean I’m not wearing nice clothes right now?”

“You have been wearing the same clothes since 8th grade!” Jonas mocks him. “But I don’t think Even will care that much.”

“You haven’t met him yet, Jonas, how would you know?”  

“I don’t know him personally, but I know that you have been writing to each other non stop for the past few days.”

“Right, but -” Isak sighs. A group of loud italian teenagers get on the bus, laughing and drinking beer. Isak forgets what he was about to say. Jonas is looking at them, a smile on his face.

“Were we that loud at 16?” Jonas says, as if they’re somehow on the verge of retiring.

“Probably not, considering I spent much of my time at your place being desperate over my parents’ divorce and all.”

“Oh, right. Right.” Jonas smiles sympathetically, and looks outside the window, the city going by, the bus stops again and some other people get on, they sound american and the different languages all blend into Isak’s ears. Jonas seems lost in his thoughts and Isak checks google maps because he can’t remember when they have to get off. It is hard enough to take a bus that doesn’t announce the stops, and at night all the streets look the same. They get off at the next stop, with the loud italian teens.

Isak and Jonas silently follow google maps’ directions to get to Eva’s place. They’re in San Lorenzo, not far away from Uni. Eva, unlike them, was smart enough to take an apartment at a walking distance from campus. She shares it with two other girls in Erasmus, both not-Norwegian. Isak spots Even right after he has shaken both the girls’ hands, he’s on the couch talking with Noora. Before he knows it, Isak is sitting on the couch’s armrest, saying hi to the both of them. When it comes to Even, Isak has realized, his actions go much faster than his thoughts.

“Isak! You won’t believe this, me and Noora actually have friends in common back in Oslo. I can’t believe we all came all the way down here to meet people we could’ve easily met in our town.” Isak chuckles.

“I do have tons of friends that are not norwegians though,” he lies, and Even looks at him as if to say _cut out the bullshit, you only ever hang out with Jonas and us_.

“Oh and I was just telling Noora that she should join our email circle. She’s really enthusiastic about it, unlike you and Eva.”

“Maybe she’s just being _polite_ because she doesn’t you well, Even.”

“I don’t see what’s weird in being enthusiastic about it!” Even complains, and turns to Noora who shrugs and says

“Fuck smartphones, man.” And then goes to say hi to Jonas, leaving Even and Isak alone. Even shifts on the couch, leaving some space for Isak to sit.

“You should also ask Jonas, he’ll love it. Although I’m sure that after a couple of days he will start sending everyone all his political stuff, so do it at your own risk.”

“Jonas - is the one talking to Noora, right? And you guys live together right?” Isak is not sure but he senses a certain change of tone in Even’s voice as he asks that.

“Yeah, we do. Sadly just as friends though, he still says he likes girls, so.” They both laugh, quite embarrassed after that. Jonas is then standing in front of them, two beers in hand, handling one to Isak.

“So you must be the famous email guy Even.”

“And you must be Jonas the guy who will send us political emails starting tomorrow,” Even says, shaking Jonas’ hand.

“Will I? Those are just rumors Isak like to spread around. I mostly consider myself an expert on skating tricks fails.”

“You mean the videos you take of yourself?” Even laughs and chokes on his beer, while Jonas shakes his head, pretending to be disappointed.

“I bring you beer and that’s how you treat me.”

“Cheers Jonas,” Isak teases him, but Even is the one clinking his half empty beer with Isak’s one. Jonas barely raises his beer and leaves them, joining some other people he probably know from his classes.

“So what does he study? He doesn’t look like the science type.”

“Do I, though?” Even looks at him, or rather he scans him, and it is supposed to be a joke but Isak feels vulnerable in that moment, he feels vulnerable under Even’s poignant look. He’s looking as Isak like not many people, if not anyone, had ever looked at him before.

“Nah, you just look like a bad dressed teenager,” Even jokes then, looking away.

“Did you and Jonas actually talk behind my back? He said something similar earlier. I feel attacked,” Isak tries to joke, trying to shake off the sensation Even’s gaze has left him.

“Oh, yeah, you got us. We actually write all the time discussing strategies on how to bring you down.”

“So you know already that he studies Political Science, so you see he kind of studies science too.”

“Your sense of humor is almost as bad as your clothes.”

“Oi!” Isak laughs though, not even remotely pretending he’s offended by Even’s teasing. They talk for a long time, there on the couch, ignoring the people coming and going around them, There are maybe four different languages spoken around the apartment, the music moving from italian to english to norwegian to some other ones Isak can’t even recognize, and then the beers are over and someone suggests to go end their night in a pub around the corner. It’s only then that Isak and Even get up and mingle with the others, down on the stairs and out on the streets, now filled with people; the pub some wanted to go to is packed, they end up buying beers in a tiny shop a few streets over, drinking them sitting on the sidewalk.

Isak never would have left that couch, he thinks when he’s finally going back home with Jonas.

 

 

> Sunday - 13:00
> 
> to: [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com) , [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com) , [ nooramalie@gmail.com ](mailto:nooraamalia@gmail.com) , [ jvasquez@gmail.com ](mailto:jvasquez@gmail.com)
> 
> from: [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: coolest norwegians in rome
> 
>  
> 
> to be honest i don’t know what to write but i wanted to say that this is all really cool and i’m glad you all want to prove isak wrong by stating that group emails are so much cooler than group chat. first pro, no one will know when you’ll read the mail and you can take as much time as you want to reply. second, no option of voice messages which let’s admit it, are really tedious.
> 
> there are some more but now i need to go back writing my essay so bye everyone
> 
>  
> 
> ps i wrote coolest norwegians in rome because i wanted to be humble, because let’s face it, we’re the coolest in the whole planet.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> 13:20
> 
> To: [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> From: [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: asshole
> 
> attached: metellingyouyoureanasshole.mp3
> 
>  
> 
> i’m leaving the group conversation if you keep on making fun of me!!!!
> 
> also, see, i can send audio messages anyway. :)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> 13:25
> 
> to: [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com) , [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com) , [ nooramalie@gmail.com ](mailto:nooraamalia@gmail.com) , [ jvasquez@gmail.com ](mailto:jvasquez@gmail.com)
> 
> from: [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: in the space no one can hear you scream
> 
> isak just reminded me another cool thing about this, basically no one can “leave” this because the person who sends the emails decides who’s in and who’s not. i’m sorry isak.

 

“Isak, if the both of you are using this email thing as a mere excuse to flirt you can tell your boyfriend I’m out,” Jonas says as soon as he reads the last email.

“Apparently no one can get out,” Isak says, shrugging.

“Also, apparently, no one in the space can hear you scream?”

“You should look for it on the internet, it surely is a movie quote..”

“You already know all about his quirks, how cute.” Isak is about to throw the orange he is about to peel at Jonas, but then thinks better of it and just makes a face as a response.

 

 

> Monday - 16:00
> 
> to: [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com) , [ nooramalie@gmail.com ](mailto:nooraamalia@gmail.com) , [ jvasquez@gmail.com ](mailto:jvasquez@gmail.com) , [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> from: [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com)
> 
> re: believe me i tried to get out of this
> 
>  
> 
> Ehy everyone,
> 
> As I was telling Isak and Even in class today my mom is in Rome for the whole week for a work thing and I talked to her about all of you and quickly found out it was a big mistake. She now wants to meet you all and thought it would be cool if you could all come over for dinner tomorrow evening. Feel free to make up excuses, like some really important essay you have to write. I won’t get offended. If you feel like coming over, then my mom is apparently making dinner.
> 
>  

That’s how they’re all at Eva’s again that Tuesday. Isak comes directly from uni, where he stayed to study in the library (Jonas texts him “what a nerd”), but he’s super early so he slowly down the neighborhood's streets, trying to understand the things written on the walls (there are quite a lot), taking pictures of the graffiti, of the buildings’ colors that are enhanced by the sunset lights, shades of pink and orange.

“Didn’t know you were into photography,” someone says and Isak recognizes the voice immediately without having to turn.

“If you had Instagram, you’d know I post pictures almost everyday,” Isak explains, and then, as he puts his phone back in his pocket, he adds “Were you stalking me?”

“No. I think I got lost because all these streets look the same.”

“That’s why, you know, they put those big, white signs on the walls where the name of the street in written on,” Isak says, indicating the street sign right in front of them. Then they start to walk, Isak confident he will find Eva’s street at the first try.

“Isak, you should stop teasing me. Haven’t they told you is not polite to do so with your elders?”

“ _Elders_. You must be, like, one year older than me.”

“I think it’s two years. I’m almost ancient,” Even points out.

“Ancient as in 23?” Even nods, as they turn into a street that looks exactly like the one Eva lives in but it’s not the right one. They turn right again, and Isak is lucky because they’re on the right street now.

“See? It was easy.” Even checks his watch and tells Isak they’re still early, so they buy a beer from the bar in front of Eva’s building.

“I just realized you haven’t told me your old email handle yet.”

“Of course I haven’t, you will never know it.”

“C’mon, aren’t we friends now?”

“I wouldn’t define you a _friend_ , exactly…” Even teases him, “I mean, how long have we known each other? Not even a month.”

“I don’t even have your phone number.”

“See? We’re merely acquaintances.”

Isak thinks he would gladly spend the whole evening there, sat on the low wall, drinking beer and talking shit with Even, when Noora arrives.

They wait for Jonas, who’s the last one because he had a late class that day, and all go to Eva’s together. They’re welcomed by a smell that reminds Isak of home, of his mom’s cooking, of certain evenings when he came back home after school before everything changed, when he was 16.

And as the evening goes on, with good food and a good bottle of wine (and maybe it’s the alcohol speaking) Isak thinks that maybe, even though it is ridiculous that the best friends he has made so far in this experience all come from his country, and even though it has been only a short time, not even a month really, he hasn’t felt so _at home_ in a long time.

 

 

> Wednesday - 09:00
> 
> to: [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com) , [ nooramalie@gmail.com ](mailto:nooraamalia@gmail.com) , [ jvasquez@gmail.com ](mailto:jvasquez@gmail.com) , [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> from: [ evakmohn@gmail.com ](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com)
> 
> re: takk!!
> 
>  
> 
> Ehy guys,
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for coming last night. It meant a lot and my mom now seems extremely more relaxed because she has seen with her own eyes that I’m not hanging out with drug addicts (I have no idea what the fuck she read about Erasmus).
> 
> <3333

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the kudos/comments on the first chapter!  
> I'm trying to post pictures on my tumblr to show you the places I'm talking about in this fic, [here](http://books-figuero.tumblr.com/tagged/erasmus+au) , but as you can see I'm failing so far.


	3. Colosseum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak and Even do some tourist-y things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “She had always been fond of history, and here [in Rome] was history in the stones of the street and the atoms of the sunshine.” Henry James

> 23:30 
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: what we do in life echoes in eternity
> 
>  
> 
> isak, 
> 
> i have only one class tomorrow but it was cancelled because my professor is sick. so, since the other day we were saying that it is crazy that after a month here we still haven’t been to the colosseum, i was wondering if you wanted to come with me. unless you can’t skip your immwhateverthatis class (can’t be bothered to google it right now). 
> 
> let me know 
> 
>  
> 
> even decimo meridio 

 

It has been two weeks since the dinner at Eva, and after that Isak hasn’t really seen Even outside Italian classes and the occasional lunch in the canteen. What Isak doesn’t understand if it is because Even is trying to keep a certain distance from him, but it doesn’t make much sense considering they are constantly writing each other mails, and in class everything is fine, the teasing and the movie references Isak doesn’t get and all. But Even didn’t come to the party Eskild invited them all to last week, for example. It was held in a old military base that was converted to a space for exhibitions and concerts. A friend of Eskild was one of the people exposing that week, and so they all went, minus Even. Isak wasn’t the biggest fan of the music that it was played but he enjoyed the night nonetheless, despite feeling as if something was missing,  _ someone  _ more like it. And that thought scared him, because he couldn’t believe he could feel  _ so much _ for someone in such a short amount of time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like hanging out with the others, he loved Noora and Eva and Eskild, but Isak realized halfway through the night that he turned his head many times after saying something stupid, looking for Even’s reaction, before remembering he wasn’t there. 

 

Maybe it is because in Erasmus everything happens at double speed, because every friendship and every relationship feels much more real than all the ones you had before, because away from home all the feelings are amplified. 

Isak just wants to believe that it is just the spell the Erasmus has cast on him, that is the thing. 

Isak just wants to believe that he didn’t want to make out with the cute guy who flirted with him the whole night because he didn’t really like him and not because he couldn’t take Even out of his mind. 

Isak wants to believe a lot of things, but the problem is that he knows what the truth is already, he’s just afraid of speaking it out loud. 

 

So when Even writes him that email that night Isak is not sure he has read it correctly. He dashes into Jonas’s room without even knocking first. 

“What’s with Even now?” Jonas asks, not even looking away from his laptop. He’s watching something on Netlix, some show about hip hop history. 

“How do you know?” Jonas shrugs, pausing the show then. 

“I just  _ do _ .” 

“I fucking hate you,” Isak complains as he plops on Jonas’ bed, right next to his friend. 

“What did he write this time?” Isak doesn’t even talk, he handles his phone to Jonas who reads the email once, twice. “So, what are you planning on doing? Playing hard to get or just showing him how desperate you really are?” 

“Oi! I’m not desperate.” 

“So you’re going to class and ditch his invite?” 

“Jonas, I’m not here for you to psychoanalyze me, I want answers.” 

“Okay, okay. If you want my humble opinion, I think that you’re both desperate and pretending you’re like, super cool and aloof when you can’t wait to, like, get into each other’s pants.” 

“Do we, now?” 

“Those are Eva’s words, actually. Noora also agreed.” 

“So do you guys have a group chat to discuss me and Even’s desperation levels?” 

“We don’t, but it’s actually a great idea now that you make me think about it. We should make a dare on when you’ll finally stop eye fucking and finally fuck for real.” 

“I fucking hate you.” 

“You mentioned that already once or twice.” Isak punches Jonas in his arm, but Jonas hardly winces. 

“Wait, when did you, Eva and Noora meet without me?” 

“I think last Wednesday, when you were late for lunch. Relax, Isak, we’re not having secret meetings without you.”  Isak mumbles something about them being horrible friends, but in the end he stays in Jonas’ room to watch the show with him, because after sending the reply to Even he needs not to think about the day he’s about to live. Not that it actually works, but still. He tries. 

 

> 00:01 
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: At my signal, unleash hell
> 
>  
> 
> I thought you didn’t like Gladiator (for once I am prepared on the quote, see?). Anyway, yes I think I can skip my immwhateverthatis class (which I don’t have tomorrow, to be honest, but i wanted to rewrite that). So, when should we meet? Don’t say any hour before midday, please. 
> 
>  
> 
> 00:10 
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: death smiles at us all, all a man can do is smile back
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
> i never said i didn’t like gladiator, i just said it isn’t historically accurate.  
> 
> what’s the nonsense about midday? we should meet at ten. 
> 
> see you tomorrow 
> 
> AT TEN
> 
> (see i even used capital letters for once to further prove my point) 
> 
>  
> 
> 00:20
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Isn’t there a quote about 10 being too early?
> 
>  
> 
> OK.
> 
>   
>    
> 

Isak is welcomed at the Colosseum by a couple of street sellers who want to sell him selfie sticks for only 5 euros. He kindly says that no, he doesn’t need them and tries to get closer to the spot they had decided to meet at. A group of americans cross the street, lead by their tour guide. Isak is fascinated by how many people there are in the group and he pities the poor guide who’s probably constantly afraid of leaving someone behind. 

He can’t believe that there are already so many people at 10 am, people who willingly chose to wake early while on vacation to go to the Colosseum. He wonders if there are other people who are there just because their crush asked them to. Probably not. Isak checks his phone to see if Even has written to tell he’s going to be late or something, but instead there’s only a message from Eva _ hope you guys will make out between the roman ruins! call me later i want details!!  _ He replies with an eye roll emoji (but Isak is secretly pleased that Eva cares so much and he  _ will  _ call her later.) 

He’s about to send an email to Even to complain about the fact that he’s late at the time he has chosen  _ himself _ , when Isak sees him appear in the middle of a big group of Japanese people, all concentrated on listening to their audio guides. He then reaches Isak, a huge smile on his face. 

“So, ready for the tour? I brought a guide,” Even says, taking out of his backpack a norwegian guide of Rome that probably belonged to his grandparents, judging on the conditions of the cover.

“Are you sure that is updated?” 

“Isak, honestly, this guide is from 2001 and I think that the Colosseum hasn’t changed much since then. Well, except for ticket pricing maybe.” They reach the line, it isn’t as long as Isak has expected it to be. Even looks at the prices written on the board, and then again at his guide. “Woah, it’s more than double the price. Thieves.” 

“Unbelievable! Never heard of inflation before?” 

“Don’t get all scientific on me,” Even protests.  

“That’s  _ economy _ .”  

“I don’t care. It’s boring.” 

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” Isak pretends to be annoyed when he’s, in fact, smiling. He could spend the whole day on that line teasing Even and he wouldn’t complain. 

“So don’t,”Even says, trying to sound somehow angry but failing completely. Isak can see him smirking. Even starts reading from the guide then, fact after fact about the Colosseum (“Can you believe Nero had made his own lake here where the Colosseum is now? What a megalomaniac!”), until they finally reach the booth and pay for their tickets. 

“So if you have that guide does that mean you came in Rome already in 2001?” Isak realizes, while they enter the building. 

“Yes, but I hardly remember anything. I do remember how hot it was, though.” 

“The Colosseum? Sure it is. Hottest building in town,” Isak says, looking around. 

“You’re so lame, Isak.” 

“Says the one who has never heard of inflation before.”

 

“Don’t get me started on all the things _you_ have never heard of.” 

“Try me,” Isak says but he’s sure that in about one minute Even will start to list three thousand different obscure movies (maybe not even that obscure but Isak probably watches 30 movies every year, so it’s not that hard to find ones he hasn’t seen before). Instead he waves him off and concentrates again on his guide, reading out loud some more. 

When they first stop to take a few pictures, Isak can’t believe his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me that you have an analog camera.” 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Isak groans and he is about to hit his head on a wall when he remembers that those are more-than-2000-years-old walls.  “How many pictures can you take with that?” 

“Thirty-six. Thirty-five will be of the places we’re seeing and one is going to be of you.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“I will take it when you least expect it.” 

“But now that you told me I’ll be on alert the whole time.” 

“I doubt you will. You told me that you get distracted easily and that’s why you don’t watch many movies.” Isak protests feebly, he doesn’t much to say against that. Those are his own words. That, combined with the fact that he can’t believe that Even remembers all the shit Isak writes him. 

 

When they get out of the Colosseum Isak has taken an insane amount of pictures, while Even probably has taken only 15. Not of Isak, though. He tries to stay behind the camera the whole time, and at some point he accuses Even of pretending to take pictures because, c’mon, who fucking sells film in the 21st century. The camera is probably empty. 

“More shops than you can imagine, because people love analog cameras, Isak. Not everyone pretends to enjoy photography like you do, without even owning a  _ real  _ camera -” 

“My phone has a really good camera, and I mean it’s not what you use to take the picture, but it all lies in the talent of -” 

“Spare me the bullshit,” Even interrupts him, but it’s all good hearted. 

“I can’t believe I skipped chem lab for this.” Isak rolls his eyes, but who the fuck is he kidding. He would skip classes for the rest of the year if every day could be like this one.

“You know there are people flying from all over the world for  _ this _ ?” Even says, gesturing wildly at the Colosseum and all that is around them. “And you worry so much about two hours of chem lab!” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the  _ place _ , really, it’s more like the  _ person  _ I’m here with.” 

Even mutters something and then goes back to the tourist guide, checking something in it “oh, okay. We’re going to the roman forum next.” 

They get into the Roman Forum fast because they don’t have to buy a new ticket, and Even is reading again out loud as soon as they’re in, surrounded by ruins, some of which must have been majestic temples back in the days. 

“Fun fact. Well, not that fun, but a fact nonetheless, the forum was used as a pasture during medieval times,” Even says, quoting from the book. 

 

They are both exhausted after the visit, it is lunchtime and there’s still another place they can visit included in their ticket.

“Food first,” Isak suggests. “I will pay you lunch if you don’t take out your camera while I eat.” Even still hasn’t finished his film. If Isak isn’t wrong there are still seven pictures left. Last thing he wants is being immortalized when he’s eating. Even agrees, and they go eat in a restaurant Even found in the guide (Isak double checks it on Tripadvisor, just in case the place closed in the last 16 years). It might be because Isak is super hungry, or because he has never been to a proper restaurant since he arrived in Rome, or Even’s presence, but this is the best meal he had in ages. They also try to order in italian and they got the dishes they asked for, so maybe they  _ do  _ learn something in class. Considering the amount of time Isak spends talking with Even and Eva, it is a miracle. 

They stay silent for a while, both exhausted after a whole morning walking and because they want to savor their pasta. 

“You know that quote from Pulp Fiction?” 

“I - “ Even raises a hand to stop Isak from talking. 

“Ok, let’s pretend I’ve never asked. Anyway it says something like, you know you’ve found someone special when you can shut up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.” 

“I think I’ve read it on facebook,” Isak says, pretending he hasn’t heard Even says the word  _ special _ . “And I mean, I watched Kill Bill. It’s not like I don’t know who Tarantino is.” 

“Face -” Even shakes his head, acting all serious. “That’s it, I’m leaving now. Have fun going on your last visit on your own.” Even actually gets up, and Isak looks at him confused, the fork in his hand stopped midair. “I’m just going to the toilet, Isak. Do you think I’d leave half my pasta here?” He smirks and then leaves Isak there, his fork still midair. 

 

They walk back to the touristic area while eating a gelato like the cliché tourists they are for the day. The last stop for the day is the Palatine Hill. 

“You do realize that this ticket is valid for two days, and that we can come back tomorrow when we have rested our legs?” Isak points out, as they walk past yet another large group of Germans. 

“You do realize you’re the youngest one between the two of us, right? And you’re complaining like an old man.” 

“You have longer legs so you’re less tired, it isn’t a matter of age.” Even laughs and shakes his head, purposely walking faster now. Isak catches up with him and curses under his breath. 

“Is that what you learn in your imm- thing class? How it isn’t the age, is the  _ height _ ?” 

“Yes, we also learn that 23-year-olds from Oslo are assholes.” 

“Can’t really say I don’t agree with that.” 

 

The Palatine Hill is Isak’s favourite place of all three they’ve seen. They explore the area and take pictures of the beautiful view on Saint Peter’s (“That’s the next place we’re going to see”), and when they’re done with the tour they sit on the grass, facing the roman stadium. Even is finally done with the guide and puts it back in his backpack. And Isak has lost count of the pictures Even has taken there. He hopes that the film is full now. They’re silent for a while, and Isak thinks about the Tarantino’s quote, and he thinks that whatever it is going on between him and Even sure is  _ special _ . 

When Even finally speaks, it is in a different tone, one Isak hasn’t heard from him before. Almost severe, as if he has put a lot of thought on what he’s saying. 

“Do you ever think… like, of all the people who lived here. The normal people. All that’s left is the stories of the emperors, the men who ruled the country, but what about all the people like us? Their stories… no one will ever know them, just like ours  in a couple of generations.” 

“It’s.. well, yes, but maybe they simply enjoyed their lives, without worrying about two idiots sitting on the grass two thousand years later remembering them,” Isak says tentatively, smiling. He’s not sure Even is in the mood for jokes. He smiles back and then looks up at the sky, lost in his thoughts. 

“So, do you think there were two Isak and Even sitting here two thousand years ago?” Even asks, when he looks back at Isak. He smiles, but Isak notices that his eyes look sad. 

“First of all, I don’t think that romans were called Isak and Even. Something like Iulius and.. I don’t know, Augustus? The only two roman names I know, to be honest.” 

“Iulius and Augustus, of course. Because their parents were extremely loyal to the emperors. So, what do you think Iulius and Augustus would be doing today, two thousand years ago or so?” 

“Probably worry about the humans that lived two thousand years before them and their forgotten lives,” Isak teases him. 

“And then you say  _ I _ am the asshole. Who’s making fun of me now?” Even grunts and lies down on the grass, and Isak imitates him right after. Isak casually closes a bit of the distance there was between them while doing so. 

“Right, okay. Well, they’re probably some poor slaves working for the current emperor’s gardens here. And they are resting a bit.”  

“Of course, roman emperors really did care about their slaves’ break.” 

“They, uh, they are not talking much because they think they can enjoy each other’s presence without having to say anything.” 

“Was Augustus quoting Tarantino, now?”  

“Sure. He’s Tarantino ancestor, in fact. He has an Italian surname, after all.” 

“So they’re good friends.” 

“Yes,  _ really  _ good friends. They have been made slaves together recently. They don’t really have anyone else. They don’t know if they’re families are still alive because, you know, no phones.” 

“Those were good times,” Even jokes, and then adds, all serious  “So, uh,  _ really  _ good friends.” 

“Quite a lot.” They both slightly shift closer to one another, their legs now touching. There’s an unreal quietness, a quietness Isak has not experienced before in Rome, what with the constant flow of cars streaming by, what with the people always talking at a high volume, what with the tourists, but it’s almost closing time and there are not many people on the Palatine Hill in that moment. 

“Promise me,” Even says in a lower voice, his face coming closer to Isak’s. “That Iulius and Augustus will come back here. In the spring. When the flowers will bloom.” 

“I promise,” Isak almost whispers, his voice trembling. He closes his eyes, and before he knows it, Even’s lips are on his. Isak is sure that everyone in the range of ten kilometers can hear the beat of his heart. 

“MATTHEW COME BACK HERE!” A mother screams one second later, and the spell is broken. Isak and Even break away, and they start to laugh. 

“That’s the boss telling Augustus and Iulius to come back to work,” Even says then, and they both stand up, trying to take off all the grass that’s on their clothes and their faces. 

 

“So, uh. That’s my bus. See you tomorrow in class, yeah?” Even says when he sees the bus approaching, the first words he speaks after they left the Palatine Hill. They stayed close as they walked back to the bus stop, their hands brushing. Isak wants to believe that his legs feel weak because he has walked too much, and not because of what happened. 

“Of course. Yes.” Even kisses Isak quickly in the corner of his mouth before getting on the bus, and Isak stays there, watching the vehicle disappearing. 

>  
> 
> 22:00
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: HA HA! 
> 
>  
> 
> Fun thing is, you completely forgot to take a picture of me :) 
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> 22:05 
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: you look nice when you let your guard down
> 
>   
>  fun thing is, i did and you totally didn’t notice :) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I know a lot of Gladiator's lines by heart because my mom watched it literally every day after she bought the videotape (I'm ancient), but I had to google the English ones because she watched it dubbed in Italian.
> 
> Hope you like this chapter anyway!


	4. Rione Monti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's place, a black and white movie, photos and a gelato.

> 07:00
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: wanna see my crib? 
> 
>  
> 
> isak, 
> 
> just in case you might make different plans before we see each other (in like.. one hour ok i know, i am so clingy i know), i wanted to ask you if you wanted to come over at my place after lunch.
> 
> my parents are coming to visit tomorrow so i might not be available until sunday. ugh. 
> 
> don’t make plans today. 
> 
> otherwise i might have to kill jonas. 
> 
>  
> 
> 07:10 
> 
> from:   [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> re: yo 
> 
>  
> 
> just met Jonas in the hallway and sadly we’ve made plans for something extremely important after lunch
> 
>  
> 
> (I know this doesn’t sound even remotely believable. I’ll be there. I mean, if you show me the way since not only I still don’t have your phone number, I don’t even know where you live. Why do I tell you everything about myself and your life is such a fucking mystery?) 

 

“Listen, if it took you one kiss, one  _ chaste  _ kiss to get that ridiculous smile on your face at 7 am I’m really afraid of what might happen when you take things further. Like, to hand holding,” Jonas teases him as he pours coffee into Isak’s mug. 

“I won’t tell you anything from now on.” 

“How will I make bets with Noora and Eva then?” Isak looks up from his breakfast bowl, slightly worried. “Just kidding. I swear.” 

“I can always remind you of the Berlin fiasco,” Isak threatens him, as Jonas sits down. It is one of those rare mornings they’re having breakfast together, 

“I wouldn’t call a fiasco a vacation in which we spent two hours riding the Ringbahn. How fun was that?” Jonas smiles, lost in the memories.

“The weed might have helped.” They smoked and drank so much in Berlin that Isak has no idea how they made it back to their hotel every night. 

“Yeah, it might.” They both laugh at the memory, at Berlin’s weed and cheap beer. “So, plans for this evening? I think I’m going to go drink with some people from uni. Like, you know,  _ aperitivo _ . Which may sound fancy but it costs 3 euros. Can you believe? Three euros for a drink. And food.” 

“Uhm… I kind of have plans already?” Isak says, sheepishly. Well, Even wasn’t wrong about being worried about Jonas making other plans at 7 am. 

“What have you…” Jonas starts to say, when realization hits him. “Oh. Oh! Of course. First day with him and you’re ditching me already!” 

“We’ve probably seen each other every day for the last 10 years, you will do just fine without me this evening.” Jonas shoots him a look. “Also it’s not my fault you and Noora have to play all linguistic geniuses and have to be in the advanced class.” 

“I love when you do that thing when you say random stuff because you know you’re in the wrong.” 

“See, we should stop seeing each other so often, you know me too well and it’s getting annoying.” 

 

Isak is fidgeting on the whole ride to Uni, he has never noticed before how long it takes for him to get there. Why have him and Jonas decided to go live in a neighborhood with no underground station nearby, Isak wonders once again? Maybe he should also buy a bike. But he’s too scared of crazy drivers, Jonas has already risked accidents a couple of times. Isak will have to be patient. 

When he arrives, Even is sitting already at their usual spot, talking with a Danish guy Isak can’t remember the name of, although he’s always sitting near them at class. He’s sure by now his brain does an interesting selection when it comes to remember people’s names. He’s also sure that Even is the most beautiful person in the room and there is really no point in remember anyone else’s name or face, for that matter. He sits right next to him and Even turns immediately. They stay still, smiling at each other and not saying anything if not for a “hi”. Isak is unsure of what to do next but the arrival of Eva takes them out of their little world. 

“I think I’m leaving you two on your own and form a new group with less disgusting people,” she says, looking at them back and forth.  

“We’re not doing  _ anything _ !” Isak protests. 

“There’s no need for you to do anything to be disgusting, believe me,” Eva comments, but sits right next to them anyway. 

“I shouldn’t have called you yesterday,” Isak whispers to her. They were on the phone for half an hour and Eva was so excited that she was already planning on being bridesmaid. It is great to have friends who help you keep your feet on the ground. 

“I would have noticed anyway, you both have hearts instead of pupils today.”  

 

Isak can’t focus during immunology. It sure is interesting, what the professor is explaining, but Isak can’t connect her sentences together, he’s constantly checking the time on his phone. He can’t stop thinking about Even sitting next to him in class and their thighs touching the entire time, their hands brushing under the table, the way his body reacted to this simple touches.  He won’t see Even for another 3 hours and Isak hates himself for not allowing himself to skip a single second of his classes (feeling guilty enough already for the day off he took yesterday), so they barely said bye before parting after Italian class. 

 

> 13:05 
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: IMPORTANT
> 
>  
> 
> meet me outside the canteen in five. 
> 
> it’s really, really important. 
> 
> it is a life or death matter, isak. 
> 
> not kidding.
> 
>  

And it is, a really important matter. The most important thing  _ ever _ . Even barely says hi before dragging Isak behind a tree there and starts kissing him as if his life depended on it. Sure it does depends on Isak’s life, he’s quite convinced of that. He has his hands buried in Even’s hair, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to let him go, pulling him closer and closer. 

They do have to break away at some point,  their foreheads touching. They can’t seem to stop smiling, and they’re about to start kissing again  when they look at their right and they notice that Eva, Jonas and Noora are talking not too far away from them, pretending not to look at their friends. Eva, especially, is doing a terrible job at being subtle. 

They join their friends and get into the canteen, no one is saying anything but there are looks and knowing smiles that get exchanged between them all. 

“So, are we going to start to talk again or...?” Even asks cheerfully, after they all got their food. 

“I’m not talking with people who make out on campus, it’s really disrespectful for those of us who have no one to do it with,” Eva says. 

“But you do have us,” Noora says, hugging her, and the boys all make fun of her making cooing noises. 

“Maybe it’s time for us to let other people in this group. People who will not constantly eat each other’s faces. Or I might join the spaniards,” Jonas says.  

“It won’t work if you’re going to sleep with half of them though,” Isak points out.  They laugh out loud at that. 

“Isak. I should’ve come here by myself, I can’t believe this. Did we tell you guys that Isak didn’t want to come here?” They all shake their heads. 

“So what you’re saying Jonas is, it’s all your fault that these two are together now,” Eva says, pointing her fork at both Isak and Even. 

“Oh, fuck. You’re right. It’s all my fault. Sorry guys.” 

“I need to thank you then, Jonas,” Even says, and they’re all doing the cooing sounds again. Even is smiling at Isak then, as if to say  _ I’m glad you changed your mind _ ,  and Isak  smiles back, thinking that there are still so many things they haven’t told each other, so many things he still doesn’t know about Even, and he can’t wait to find them all out. 

 

“We need to take a quick detour before going home, but it’s important.” After lunch Isak and Even take the bus back to Even’s place, which is apparently quite close to the Colosseum (Isak makes fun of him for taking the bus back home the day before,  _ what a lazy ass _ ), and the bus is so packed that they don’t even have a choice but stay glued to each other for the whole ride.

“As important as it was before?” Isak asks, a malicious look on his face. Even smiles.

“Almost.” 

Turns out they have to bring the film roll Even used the day before to develop. 

“I thought you had a darkroom at home, I must say I’m disappointed,” Isak jokes as they walk into the store. The man behind the counter greets Even, he knows his name. Isak wonders how many rolls of film Even brought there already, and if so, why Isak hasn’t seen all these pictures already. 

“So, here are the pictures from last time,” the man says, and Even thanks him, as he handles him the roll of film from yesterday. 

“These are, uhm, quite special. So if you could do it bigger than usual.” 

“Sure thing. Come back on Monday, ok?” 

They’re out of the store then, a fat envelope in Even’s hands. 

“So, they’re quite special, uh?” Isak says, nudging Even. 

“Ehy, don’t be so flattered. You’re just in one of them.” 

 

After the photo place, they have to stop at the grocery store, and here too the shop owner greets Even as if he was an old friend, someone who has been living there for ages now. Isak can’t believe that everyone in the neighborhood knows Even, while him and Jonas barely remember where the shops are. They don’t know their neighbors’ names, let alone the people who own the shops. Even tries to say a few words in Italian to him and the man laughs, telling him in English that he is improving fast. 

“And who’s your friend?” He asks, and Even introduces Isak to the man who’s called Maurizio. Even, unlike Jonas and Isak, is extremely conscious when it comes to groceries. Veggies, fruit, almond milk, no saturated fats. A couple of days before, Isak went to the supermarket and bought 10 beers and canned tuna. As much as him and Eva tried to buy healthy food, they both admitted they were too lazy to do proper cooking  _ all the time _ . Even, on the other hand, chooses everything carefully. He checks all the fruit for bruises, the expiry dates on fresh food. Isak doesn’t understand if it’s those two years difference between them, but he can’t see himself being so attentive while grocery shopping  _ ever _ . It is just how it is, it is not a matter of age. And the worrying thing is that he can easily imagine him and Even back in Oslo together, in a supermarket together, with Isak throwing all the chips and beers in the cart and Even scolding him. 

 

“So, we’re seeing each other again Isak, no?” Maurizio asks, as Even is paying at the register. 

“Sure we will,” Isak answers, at the same time that Even says “You’ll see him all the time” And Isak is relieved, because he believes that Even is also having all those ridiculous thoughts about the future. 

 

Even’s apartment it’s in a tiny square in the neighborhood of Monti.

“Monti means mountains, and I found out that it is called like that because the neighborhood included some of the seven hills of Rome,” Even explains, once again in guide mood, although he doesn’t have the physical copy with him.

The first thing Isak notice as they reach the square is a beautiful balcony, where a cat is lazily laying, enjoying the autumnal sun. Then there’s a gelato shop, crowded although the temperatures aren’t so warm anymore. 

“Tell me that’s your apartment,” Isak says, pointing to the cat. 

“Sadly, no. On the other side.” 

Unlike Isak’s building, there is an elevator here, one of those ones in which you imagine you need the help of an usher to make it work. Isak is somehow expecting the old lady from the Aristocrats to come out of one of the apartments, along with the old man who didn’t want to the take the elevator.  

Clearly what he’s not expecting is the fact that Even has no roomies. The apartment is almost as big as the one Isak and Jonas’s, but there’s no one else living there. Isak has taken it for granted, all of them have one if not two roomies. But not Even. A whole apartment to himself. 

“Are you like - a secret member of the royal family pretending you’re one of us?”

“In fact, I do. They let me come here to work on my film project about you common people. Sadly thing got in the wrong direction because there’s this  _ poor  _ guy I like…” 

“He might not have the money but he sure is funny, though.” Even laughs, as he closes the door and unceremoniously drops the bags on the floor. 

“And also extremely modest.” They kiss in the entryway then, still with their jackets and their backpacks on. 

“Maybe we should take off our jackets,” Isak says between kisses, but neither of them really care about it. 

When they do, Even shows Isak around the apartment, the kitchen, the bathroom, the tiny room that is a complete mess which is supposed to be a sort of guest room, and then finally the bedroom.

“Ok, I don’t know why but I had this idea you had all the posters of the movies of your favourite director, like that guy Dawson.” Isak loves that Even has hanged a lot of pictures on the walls, some he recognizes are from places in Oslo, some are selfies he took with friends back there, and some are from Rome, beautiful pictures of the narrow streets in the city, and some selfies they all took together in the past few weeks. Isak had no idea Even printed them all. 

“Dawson? Wait, Dawson’s Creek’s Dawson?” Isak nods. “Did you watch Dawson’s Creek?” Even asks, amused. 

“Isn’t in on Netflix? Or not, maybe it was my bigger cousin who made me watch it.” 

“Made you watch it, sure. And I’m sure you never cried while watching it.” 

“Of course not.” Isak didn’t cry, he  _ bawled _ . So technically he isn’t lying. 

“I’ll pretend to believe that,” Even says, with a soft smile. “So no movie posters up here. Only pictures. But if I remember correctly also Dawson had the pictures phase after he put down the posters.” 

“So you watched it too.” 

“Of course. But I have no cousin to blame.” Isak is still looking around, trying to find out if he recognizes some faces from the people in Oslo, but they really didn’t have any friends in common. He is wondering about it after the comment Jonas made, would they have met if Isak hadn’t come to Rome? But then Even talks again, and Isak comes back to reality. “So, uh, this is my mansion. Do you, uhm, want a coffee? We can see how those pictures turned out.” He smiles and guides Isak back to the kitchen. 

 

“Do you like living on your own?” Isak asks, as he waits for Even to make the coffee. They still haven’t opened the pictures’ envelope and Isak is really curious to look through them, because he hasn’t seen Even going around with the camera before and wonders when and where he did take those pictures. 

“Yes, it is - well, I do live with friends in Oslo. But I didn’t feel comfortable with moving in with strangers when I came here. You’re lucky you’ve got Jonas.” Even sits next to Isak, the coffee boiling in the pot. He takes the envelope and takes the pictures out, handling them as if they were breakable objects. Even removes the first one from the pile, it’s a picture of the stairs outside the faculty where they take their italian class, there is a couple kissing and some other people laughing on the other side. 

“I like to take pictures of people when they’re not noticing it.” 

“I guess you’re good at that.” 

“Oh you’ll see on Monday.” 

Even goes through the pictures, explaining all of them to Isak. One of the pictures is of the cat who lives in the apartment with the big balcony, looking up at the sky. 

“You’d be super popular on instagram with all those hipsters shots,” Isak comments, as Even is pouring the coffee in their mugs. 

“You and your social networks,” Even says, shaking his head. 

“You talk like my grandpa” 

“Oh, fuck off.  Even sits back next to Isak, careful to put the mugs not too close to the pictures. “Ok, you know what? I should lend you my camera for a week. See what you can do with it. And I’ll take pictures only with my phone.” 

“Are you sure? I have no idea how to, uhm, set that camera.” 

“I’ll show you later, if you want.” 

“Sure. If you trust me with it.” Even nods slightly and takes Isak’s hand in his, and the gesture is somehow unexpected because, yes of course, they made out under a tree in front of the whole campus, and not many minutes before, but this is  _ different _ , intimate, maybe, it’s the right word. 

“Sure I do.” He smiles, and squeezes Isak’s hand. 

 

After they’re done with the coffee, Even wants to see a movie, one that is set in Rome, if possible, Isak suggests Lizzie McGuire, Even threatens him of throwing Isak out of his apartment. They watch a movie set right after the war, which is one of the most depressing movies Isak has ever seen, which is called  _ Bicycle Thieves _ . Even doesn’t look away from the screen a single second, and when Isak tries to kiss him he’s imperturbable. Isak gives up after a while and tries to concentrate on the movie and the subtitles. 

“I lost one hour and a half of my life to watch a man trying to find his stolen bicycle, I can’t believe that,” Isak says when the movie is finished. 

“That’s the whole point, Isak. This is a masterpiece because it creates a whole story that glues you to the screen with a basic plot.” 

“If by glued to the screen you mean almost asleep then you’re right.” 

“I give up,” Even says, raising both his arms in defeat. 

“Do you?” Isak leans closer to Even then. “So, can I kiss you now?” 

“You are not allowed to kiss me only during movie time. The rest of the day you are highly encouraged to do it.” 

“Even if, say, we’re watching the Lizzie McGuire movie?” 

“Sure. All form of art must be respected.” 

“What a  _ nerd _ ,” Isak says but then he kisses Even and he forgets about bicycles, about thieves and a city that now exists only in black and white movies. Right now, in this 21st Century Rome, there are only Isak and Even, on a couch in a beautiful apartment downtown. 

 

> 00:05
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: Sliding doors
> 
>  
> 
> Even,
> 
> You know what Jonas said at lunch? That I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him? That got me thinking and now I’m lying on my bed, thinking about how crazy it is that if I would have stayed in Oslo right now I would have probably be lying on my bed but I'd be a lot more miserable (what with Jonas being here in Rome and not meeting you). 
> 
> And, I don’t know. I wonder if we would’ve met anyway, somewhere. In Oslo. At uni? At a party. The idea that we could’ve met anyway but, say, 5 years into the future somehow upsets me. 
> 
> But, uhm, sorry for the ridiculous thoughts. It has been an amazing day, not because of _you_ of course but because I’ve got to eat that amazing gelato while admiring the beautiful cat on the balcony (certainly not because of the movie, anyway).
> 
>  
> 
> 00:30 
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: you’re getting better with your movie references. 
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
> this is not ridiculous. i was thinking the same thing, when he said that. i’m glad we met now,  because as someone said to me yesterday, apparently the best thing to do is worry about the present. but i’m positive we would have met anyway. i mean, if i saw you on a bus, i’d immediately talk to you. like, you know, coming up with the most stupid thing that crossed my mind (you know, like, how would you translate  _ russ  _ in english?). oslo isn’t that big after all. 
> 
> and i’m sorry you couldn’t stay over. as i told you my parents decided to arrive super early tomorrow.  
> 
> also, choose a day you want to come over because i want you to watch the old and the new romeo and juliet (the old one was shot in rome, so.) (i can't believe you still haven't watched a single baz luhrmann movie)
> 
>  
> 
> 00:35
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: What light through yonder window breaks?   
>    
> 
> 
> As long as we’re allowed to make out when the first movie ends. I’m not going to sit on your couch for 4 hours without touching you. 
> 
>  
> 
> 00:35
> 
> from:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> to:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> re: thus with a kiss i die
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
> of course (before, between movies, and after.) 
> 
>  
> 
> ps don’t forget to take pictures with my camera this weekend
> 
>  
> 
> 00:40
> 
> From:  [ ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com)
> 
> To:  [ ebnaesheim@gmail.com ](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> Re: ok
> 
>  
> 
> See you on Monday then (it'll be the longest weekend ever). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ice cream place i mentioned in this chapter is super good and they have the weirdest flavours. [here it is](http://www.gelateriafatamorgana.com/web/FATAMORGANA%20CREATION.htm). 
> 
> also, once again, many thanks for the kudos and comments. :)
> 
> ( i'm also on [tumblr](http://books-figuero.tumblr.com/) )


	5. Bari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang goes out of town for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "take a look around you  
> at all the gifts they offered you  
> they invented the sea for you  
> you say you have nothing  
> does the sun seem nothing to you"   
> [(Domenico Modugno - Meraviglioso)](http://www.allthelyrics.com/forum/showthread.php?t=103315)

>  10:00
> 
>  
> 
> to: ivaltersen@gmail.com , nooramalie@gmail.com , ebnaesheim@gmail.com ,  evakmohn@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: jvasquez@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: mission save isak
> 
>  
> 
> ehy everyone,
> 
>  
> 
> as you might have heard ( _ might _ , because Isak is totally not talking about it 24/7), Even will be with his parents this weekend so I was wondering if you all wanted to go on a trip out of town. I found some cheap alternatives which we can discuss today at lunch.
> 
>  
> 
> I’m including Even in here so he can think about ditching his parents and join us (although then the whole point of the trip will be lost).
> 
>  
> 
> 10:15
> 
>  
> 
> to: jvasquez@gmail.com  , nooramalie@gmail.com , ebnaesheim@gmail.com ,  evakmohn@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: i hate you
> 
>  
> 
> In case it isn’t clear: I really hate you, Jonas.
> 
>  
> 
> Also I really love you for organizing this.
> 
>  
> 
> 10:25
> 
>  
> 
> to: jvasquez@gmail.com  , nooramalie@gmail.com ,  evakmohn@gmail.com , ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: miss you all already
> 
>  
> 
> especially the lady at the register in the canteen. tell her i won’t be away for long.
> 
>  
> 
> ps do not go to venice without me though
> 
>  
> 
> 10:30
> 
>  
> 
> to: jvasquez@gmail.com  , nooramalie@gmail.com ,  , ivaltersen@gmail.com , ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: evakmohn@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: just stop
> 
>  
> 
> Please stop with the thing where you’re pretending you’re not talking about Isak when you actually are, or at least do that flirting thing in private emails.
> 
>  
> 
> (but please don’t miss class tomorrow, i can’t stand the idea of spending two hours with sad  Isak).

 

When they all meet for lunch later, Isak can’t believe how well organized Jonas is. He has taken a map of Italy and spread it on the table, with the cities they could go to circled in red. Their final decision on the matter, though, is taken solely based on the fact that the trip is the cheapest and also Jonas and Isak have a friend who’s in Erasmus there who can host them.

 

“I have no idea where this Bari is, but let’s book this trip before I change my mind,” Noora says. By the time she's done talking, Jonas has already taken his laptop out of his bag.

 

“Leaving tomorrow after lunch is okay for everyone?” Jonas asks, typing furiously, his lunch abandoned by the computer’s side.

 

“I have -” They all turn to look at Isak, shooting him angry looks. “Whatever. Never mind.”

 

And so they are going to visit a city all of them have barely heard of before. The only reason being keeping Isak occupied, instead of letting him spend a weekend at home watching shows on Netflix, waiting for Monday to come. Now he won’t have to worry about finishing the two rolls of films Even has given him along with the camera the day before. Isak cannot say he hasn’t met cool people so far. It's just that they all seem to have joined forces to make him skip more classes as possible.

 

> 13:20
> 
>  
> 
> from:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: first picture!
> 
>  
> 
> Since of course I can’t show you now you’ll have to trust me but I took the first picture with your camera. I tried to follow all those crazy pieces of advices you gave me yesterday. I tried my best so I hope that all the people in it won’t be out of focus. I’m still not sure I’m good at the whole spontaneous thing because I told the guys to pretend not to see me. But it’ll get better during the weekend, we’re going to this seaside town in the south. so don’t worry, Venice is safe.
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Please come tomorrow at least for class. You don’t want to make Eva angry.
> 
>  
> 
> 14:00
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: first picture!
> 
>  
> 
> files attached: myparentshavinglunch.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> so, how did i do? i must admit i cheated and used that vsco app, but still. someone once told me that what matters is the photographer’s talent and not the object he uses. it was a guy i met at the colosseum a few days ago (can you believe it was only a few days ago?) and said he was called iulius. he has terrible taste in movies but it's obvious he's got great taste in men.
> 
>  
> 
> hope i will see you tomorrow, still not sure.

 

Isak walks back home from the underground station that day. He is looking for some detail he hasn’t noticed before that he could capture on camera. He’s holding that piece of antiquary (as he might have called the day before, almost causing Even a heart attack the day before) thigh, afraid of breaking it, or that someone could steal it (he figures pieces of antiquary are expensive). He doesn’t want to tell Jonas about it, not really. But they are going to leave in less than 24 hours and at that point, he will have to explain why he’s using an analogic camera all of a sudden.

 

Surprisingly enough, though, when Isak tells Jonas the whole story, he doesn’t mock him. On the other hand, his friend spends the whole evening gushing over the camera. He tells Isak how cool it is that finally, someone is making him open his eyes on  _ true  _ art forms: old cameras and old movies and all of that.

 

“I’m wondering now if you two might have been more compatible.”

 

“Nah, man, he’s all yours. But I’d gladly take the camera. This thing is like - ha, I have no idea but it’s super expensive. Woah.” He doesn’t stop holding it until dinner is ready and then the food takes priority. Isak takes it back to his room then. Now that Jonas confirmed that the thing is super expensive, he doesn’t want any sauce to ruin the camera or the film.

 

“It’s nice to see you treat that camera like a child. I didn’t know you had that paternal instinct in you.”

 

“Am I still in time to cancel my train ticket?” Isak checks his phone then, there’s a new email by Even.

 

“What does he say?” Jonas asks.

 

“He’s not going to make it to class tomorrow. His parents want to go out of town so they’re leaving early.”

 

“That sucks, man. But we have some beers in the fridge that could cheer you up. Well, at least they will for the moment.”

 

“I’d never say no to a beer with you, you know that.” Isak is aware of the fact that not all the people have a Jonas in their life. And this night, is one of those moments that make Isak even more aware of the luck he has. There in their tiny kitchen, as they're drinking their cheap Italian beers.

 

The next morning Isak is tempted to skip Italian class altogether. But he realizes that, for once, he could actually follow the lesson because he will have no distraction. It would be a first. Not to mention that Eva would personally go to his bedroom and drag him out of bed. She doesn’t want to be there on her own with the Danish guy Isak still can’t remember the name of. He knows that Eva hates him, although she didn’t seem too eager on sharing the reason why. They have a whole weekend in front of them to get drunk and share embarrassing stories. Isak will find out then, maybe. If he will remember anything himself, that is.

 

Isak is walking down the aisles with his earphones in, not looking in front of him and that is when he runs into someone.

 

“Sorry -”

 

“Don't worry. I'm glad you ran into me.” Isak looks up, and there he is. Even. With an enormous grin on his face.

 

“Uh - what about your parents? Your trip?” Even shrugs.

 

“We’re only leaving after lunch. Wouldn’t have missed this morning classes for the world, you know how important it is. Learning the language of the country you live in and all that.” He’s all serious as he says this, and Isak is still looking at him in disbelief. “You should see your face.”

 

“Don’t do that ever again. I hate surprises.” Isak doesn’t protest though when they get into the still almost empty class and Even kisses him.

 

“I got like 10 desperate texts from Isak last night and now you’re here?” Eva complains as they sit down a while later. She sighs then, and adds “I’m glad you are here, Even. Really.”

 

“They weren’t  _ ten _ . No more than three.” Eva stares at him, holding the phone in her right hand. 

 

“I have the proof right here,” she says. Even is looking at them both, amused by the exchange. 

 

“Ok, maybe they were four, but two were class-related questions.”  Isak should have stayed home, after all. 

 

It is a lie, of course. He thinks he wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world, later, when he’s having lunch alone with Even outside campus. He notices people staring at them, but maybe because he is not in his country, maybe because he’s older now, but he doesn’t care anymore. Isak only hopes this courage won’t evaporate once they’ll be back in Oslo. 

 

 

> 15:00
> 
>  
> 
> to: jvasquez@gmail.com  , nooramalie@gmail.com ,  evakmohn@gmail.com , ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re:
> 
>  
> 
> have a nice trip everyone. don’t let isak drown. i need him alive on monday because we have something important planned already.
> 
>  
> 
> 15:15
> 
>  
> 
> to: jvasquez@gmail.com ,  evakmohn@gmail.com , ivaltersen@gmail.com , ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> from: nooramalie@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re:
> 
>  
> 
> if you’re going to give us details of your sex life please tell me in advance so i can cancel my email address completely.
> 
>  
> 
> (jonas sitting next to me on the bus agrees with me).
> 
>  
> 
> isak, who’s sitting in front of me, says that it’s actually a movie thing (is that how you’re calling it? nerds). but still. i wanted to be clear.
> 
>  
> 
> eva laughs, so i’m not sure what’s her position on the matter.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have used the word  _ position  _ in this particular context,” Noora observes a few minutes after. They all laugh, as the train slowly leaves Rome’s station. Isak takes a picture of Jonas and Noora then, of their spontaneous laughter, the autumnal sunlight illuminating their faces. 

 

> 15:20
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to: ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: mixtape
> 
>  
> 
> attached file: thecatonthebalcony.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
>  
> 
> second photo is the now famous cat. i didn’t realize how good the zoom on this phone is. still, the lack of depth disturbs me. i miss my lenses.
> 
>  
> 
> so i guess i made you a mixtape. i was thinking about doing an actual mixtape but then realised i had no idea where i could find a tape, not to mention a device i could record on a tape with. so here’s a spotify link. it isn’t as cool as a cassette tape, let’s be honest here, but still. i think it takes like 4 hours to get to bari with the train (not that i have checked it or anything) so sorry if this isn’t long enough.
> 
>  
> 
> ps you are allowed to take a couple of pictures with your phone so you can send them to me immediately.
> 
>  
> 
> pps i suppose i’ll have to wait at least  _ tonight  _ to say that i miss you, because right now it would only sound kind of pathetic, right? 
> 
>  
> 
> 15:25
> 
>  
> 
> from: ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: :)
> 
>  
> 
> attached file: nooraandjonassleeping.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> Jonas ten minutes ago “I’ll never fall asleep. We need to savor every single second of this trip.”
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for the mixtape. I’ve started to listen to it right now. Do not worry about it not being long enough because I will probably fall asleep at some point too.
> 
>  
> 
> PS So I guess this makes two of us who are kind of pathetic then

 

Isak falls asleep only when he finishes listening to the mixtape. He's  attentive to every single song and lyrics. He loves every single one of them, loves how diverse Even’s taste in music is. There is hip hop and there is emo (a genre that Isak has always loved in secret) and also some pop. 

 

He wakes up to, not surprisingly, Noora and Jonas having a serious discussion. They're talking about pros and cons of capitalism (there are no pros, as far as Jonas is concerned) and so dozes off again.

 

“No, mom, we’re going to the south of Italy for the weekend - yes, on the sea. Do not worry, a friend of Jonas and Isak is hosting us. “ Eva on the phone with her mom wakes Isak up again. He looks outside the window and all he can see are multitudes of olive trees.

 

“We’re almost there,” Jonas announces. “I’m glad you’re finally awake. Your boyfriend sent us one thousand emails since you weren’t answering him.” Isak checks his phone and there are indeed 7 different mails from Even. Some are for everyone and a couple just for him.

 

> 17:50
> 
>  
> 
> from:  ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to: ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> attached file: outofthecarwindow.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
>  
> 
> we’re going out of town for dinner tonight. there’s a beautiful sunset and i don’t know if my phone camera is good enough for this.
> 
>  
> 
> anyway, i’m not allowing you to ever fall asleep again during the day. who am i supposed to write to?
> 
>  
> 
> 18:30
> 
>  
> 
> from:  ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to: ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re:  WAKE UP
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
>  
> 
> WAKE UP.
> 
>  
> 
> i’m doing you a 6 hours mixtape next time
> 
>  
> 
> (although i’m hoping there won’t be a next time you’ll have to go on a trip without me)
> 
>  
> 
> (i hope this doesn’t sound creepy).

 

Mahdi is there to wait for them at the platform, a huge smile on his face.

 

“Guys! I’ve missed you so much!” The three of them hugh tight, a mess between all their backpacks and bags. Then Jonas and Isak introduce him to the girls, and they all walk together outside the station. It’s all different from Rome already, Isak thinks. The air, you can feel in the air that you are close to the sea. Even if you cannot see it at first, from the big square outside the station, you just  _ know  _ that it is close by. The air is thicker, somehow you can smell the saltiness of the sea from it.

 

“My place is on the other side, so if you want we can go take a look at the sea before going there,” Mahdi says. They all agree that they want to go see the sea even though it is dark already. 

 

They’re reaching the seafront when Isak gets a phone call from a number he doesn’t know.

 

“Hello?” He answers, afraid it might be something related to his mom.

 

“Hi.” But it isn’t. It is  _ Even _ , the asshole.

 

“Even. How did you get my number?” He asks, as the rest of the group sits on a bench facing the sea. Isak, on the other hand, walks closer to the railing. From there, he can see the waves breaking on the rocks.

 

“Easy, I wrote a mail to Eva earlier and asked her. She told me I’m weird at first but then agreed. I’m glad she kept the secret.” 

 

“Couldn’t you simply ask me?”

 

“What would have been the fun in that? Also, I wanted to see if you could recognize my voice.”

 

“Or else?”

 

“Well, it is clear that I would have been deeply offended and had to take into consideration the idea of breaking up with you.” Isak laughs, but he’s secretly flattered because Even is taking for granted the fact that  _ they’re together _ .

 

“Glad I passed the test then. So, um, how is it going with the parents?”

 

“Great. We’re going to this really posh restaurant somewhere in the country fields. We’re in a medieval city, if you want I can read something about it from my amazing guide.”

 

“Do you have anything on Bari?”

 

“Sadly, no. This guide only covers center Italy. Do you miss my constant stream of information already?”

 

“Of course not. I’m glad I’m here with people I can hold normal conversations with.”  _ Of course he does _ .

 

“How is it going with the photos?”

 

“I feel like I’m being too cautious. But I don’t want to waste a single piece of film, you know?”

 

“I know, but, like. Don’t worry. Experiment a bit. And if a picture is out of focus or something just pretend that was exactly what you were aiming for.”

 

“So that’s basically what you do the whole time.” Even scoffs. The rest of the gang is busy listening to some story of Jonas (he always knows someone who knows or has done something remarkable), so Isak walks away from them. “I, um. I’m glad you called me. Emails are cool, but like. Talking is different.”

 

“Me too, Isak. I kind of, um, missed your voice.” They stay silent for a couple of seconds. The sudden seriousness of the conversation hitting them both. “Despite the fact that you’re constantly making fun of me, which you shouldn’t. You know, I told you already that you should respect your elders.”

 

“The so-called-elders who enjoy asking my number to other people to surprise me? Doesn’t sound that mature to me.”

 

“Are they on the phone already? I haven’t realized the thing was so serious!” Isak can hear Mahdi saying,  _ shouting  _ more like. Isak glares at him and turns back to look at the sea. 

 

“What are they saying?” Even asks then,

 

“It’s - Mahdi, you know my friend from high school that is hosting us. We love to piss each other off all the time.”

 

“Isn’t what you do with  _ everyone  _ though?”

 

“So this respect thing is one-sided, mr.Elder”

 

“Of course. Also, you really do suck at giving people nicknames.”

 

“I’m hanging up and then I’ll change my number immediately so you can only annoy me via email,” Isak says, but they both know that they could go on with this conversation the whole night. 

 

“I do have to hang up, actually. My parents want me to join them at the table. So, um. Talk to you later?” 

 

“Yeah. Have a nice evening, mr.Elder.”

 

“Oh, stop it. It’s terrible. You too, mr.I-cannot-give-people-decent-nicknames.”

 

There is already a good amount of people hanging out in Mahdi’s apartment when they get there a while later. That is why they decide to drop their bags and go out for dinner.

 

“Tonight I will make you eat the cheapest and most glorious food ever invented by italians. The panzerotto,” Mahdi announces as they reach a big square downtown. Isak loves the atmosphere already, how cheerful and loud everyone seems to be, how many people still hang out outside despite it not being summer anymore. “And also, there’s the fried polenta. They fry everything around here.”

 

“I love this place already,” Jonas comments, as they enter the panzerotti shop. Mahdi isn’t wrong. Everyone loves the food, in its fried gloriousness. Isak can’t say no when Jonas asks him if they want to split a second one. The girls also seem to have the same idea. “I mean, what the fuck, it’s not like we’re eating them every single day,” Eva says, while Mahdi buys beers for everyone (“they’re one euros each, can you believe that?”).

 

The beers are cheap and everyone is offering the others one round each. Which means Isak isn’t really in the right mental state for taking pictures. He tries to take a couple of the gang, but he has no idea if the camera settings are correct for night time. They will come out horribly and Isak will blame Jonas or Mahdi for taking the camera from his hands. Even will pretend to believe him.

 

They’re on the fourth round when Mahdi shows them around the old town. Isak is so grateful for all of this, for the distraction. Of course, _ of course _ the thought of Even is never off his mind, he’s always there somehow, but at least he’s not at home sulking. He thinks about the day before, the way Even would explain him how to use the camera. The way he took his hand in Isak’s to show him how the manual focus worked. He thinks about Even and his old Rome guide, and misses all the random information he would read from there, as Mahdi is guiding them through the narrow streets of Bari Vecchia. He thinks that he loves and hates how everything that happens to him leads to the thought of Even. He thinks about all of this and writes it in an email a while later. Because Isak doesn’t care about sounding too pathetic, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s simply because he doesn’t want to pretend that he doesn’t care a whole lot. Because he does. 

 

> 11:11
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: good morning, good morning
> 
>  
> 
> files attached: goodmorning.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> isak,
> 
>  
> 
> i have no idea how to properly respond to your email from last night. you were probably drunk but I will pretend that you actually miss me even in your not-drunken state. because, isak, the thing is, i only had one glass of wine and i still missed you. so, I’m hoping you feel the same. here it’s a picture of me missing you (i wanted to change the caption to something like “the view from my window” to surprise you, but i guess we’re done with surprises for the weekend. right?)
> 
>  
> 
> ps did you read the email title singing the beatles’ song or the one from singing in the rain? ok you’ve probably never seen singing in the rain so why am i even asking.

 

Isak wakes up with the smell of coffee filling his nostrils. It takes some time for him to realize he’s not home, but that he slept on the couch in Mahdi’s living room with Jonas, who's lying on the other side of it. Isak is surprised Mahdi hasn’t jumped on the both of them to wake them up as he has done multiple times over the course of the years. It could be the presence of two people he didn’t know before, because their friend is already in the kitchen making some coffee. He’s chatting with Eva about Uni and their plans for the day. It’s only when Mahdi has given him his cup of coffee that Isak opens Even’s email. It is a miracle he doesn’t sputter the liquid everywhere when he opens the attached file. He should’ve read the email first, because he wasn’t expecting Even’s face to appear on his screen.

 

“Everything’s fine, man?” Mahdi asks.

 

“He probably got some hot content from his boyfriend,” Eva comments.

 

“Who’s getting hot content?” Noora asks, entering the room. She looks at Isak, then adds “Ok, never mind. Got it.”

 

> 11:50
> 
>  
> 
> From:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> To: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> Re: no surprises
> 
>  
> 
> files attached: thegangdandthecoffee.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> If you thought that your picture’s name made the content clear then you were completely wrong. Didn’t feel like seeing your ugly face in the morning.
> 
>  
> 
> I’m sparing you mine up close by sending you one of all us together. Mahdi is the best and made breakfast for everyone (I think only to impress the girls because he has never done anything like that before).
> 
>  
> 
> PS: re-read it and meant every word.
> 
>  
> 
> 12:10
> 
>  
> 
> from: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> to:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> re: waffles
> 
>  
> 
> i’m glad you’re back to your usual asshole-self. i was getting worried.
> 
>  
> 
> also, are those waffles on the table? is mahdi coming to rome anytime soon? i want him to be my friend.
> 
>  
> 
> ps i am happy to know that. 

 

They go again to Bari Vecchia, this time because Mahdi wants to show them the old ladies making pasta right in the middle of the streets. The same streets they walked through the night before, shouting obscenities. It is only now, sober and with a good light, that Isak finally starts to focus on the photographs. He concentrates on details such as the women’s hands as they rapidly work the dough. Isak is amazed by their fast movements, as they do their task without even looking at the dough anymore, years and years of practice behind them. The women speak with them cheerfully in a funny english, mixing it with italian words.  Not even Jonas gets what they're saying, though. “They’re talking in their dialect, don’t look at me”. 

 

It is a lovely day so they decide to stroll along the promenade. The sea is calm, that kind of calmness that makes the blue of the sea merge with the sky on the horizon. Isak takes pictures of the buildings reflecting on the water, some with the camera and some with his phone.  They even take a selfie with the camera, and Isak already pictures Even’s disappointed face when he will see it. 

 

> 14:13
> 
>  
> 
> From:  ivaltersen@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> To: ebnaesheim@gmail.com
> 
>  
> 
> Re: you know the pink floyd song right
> 
>  
> 
> Files attached: adraticsea.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> We’re eating focaccia on the beach.
> 
>  
> 
> As you may have noticed I am not good at saying things when I’m sober so we’re gonna leave it at that.
> 
>  
> 
> :)

 

Isak is glad they’re walking a lot because it feels like all they are doing it’s eating. There’s the fried polenta that they skipped the night before, and again panzerotti for dinner, because no one can say no to panzerotti.

 

“I hope you’re not constantly eating this, man. I’m worrying about your clogged arteries.” Isak, the man of science. 

 

“Nah, man. Don’t worry. I’m usually way more healthy than this.”

 

“If you’re as healthy as you are back home I do worry too, honestly,” Jonas says. 

 

“Funny how you’re commenting on his diet when there’s hardly anything edible in the fridge in your apartment,” Eva comments.

 

“Hey, I didn’t want to say anything about it, but… she said it first,” Noora says then, arms raised.

 

“You came to our apartment once and we had a party, so that was why there were only beers in there.” Isak thinks of that solitary piece of cheese they left in there before leaving on Friday morning. Eva and Noora shake their heads. From the look on Mahdi’s face, Isak guesses his friend is glad he didn’t join them in Rome. 

 

They’re going back home after an exhausting day out to relax a bit, before going out again for a party. 

 

It is a party held in the apartment of some friends of Mahdi, not too far from his place. 

Once they make it there, Isak realizes he isn’t in the mood for it, not really. There are some of his favorite people in the world there, the music selection is good. Not to mention that the beer comes straight out of the fridge, never too hot nor cold. There are some of his favorite people, he ponders once again, but not his favorite person. And Isak hates allowing himself to have these thoughts, especially when he can’t even blame it on the alcohol (yet). Especially when Even hasn’t answered his emails in two hours, not that it means anything really. It only means that Isak is falling so hard, he’s probably reaching the center of the earth soon.

 

He’s in the kitchen, opening his email folder for the upteenth time when Mahdi gets there.

 

“Oi, cheer up a bit,” he says, as he takes two beers from the fridge and handling one to Isak. “So, uhm. What’s the deal with this Even guy?” He asks, as he sits next to his friend. 

 

“Maaaahd I’m - well, not drunk enough.” Isak drops his head on his friend’s shoulder, and Mahdi pats it affectionately. 

 

“There’s no need for you to say anything, bro. I saw the way you looked at your phone when you got a text from him.” Isak sighs. “And, like, Jonas told me a couple of things. And you know how critical Jonas are of the people you date.” 

“Don’t tell me about it.” Isak groans. Truth is, they both always were extremely critical. And they both were right about those people, most of the times. 

Jonas joins them a while later and they don’t move from the kitchen for the rest of the night. They're drinking and talking to whoever gets in the kitchen, sometimes it’s Eva and Noora. Sometimes it’s other people speaking different languages. For some hours, it feels like nothing changed for the three of them. It is still high school, and it's only the three of them, hiding from other people during parties. There’s also a joint making an apparition at some point, to further prove the point.

 

Isak wakes up with his back and his head hurting.  He’s sure he’s not in the same place he woke up the day before. They haven’t left Mahdi’s friends apartment, and Isak has slept in the bathtub. He slowly gets up from there, careful not to slip. The other ones are in the living room, Noora on a sofa, while Mahdi and Jonas are on the ground, sleeping on a carpet. Eva is not there.

 

“Guys?” They slowly wake up, looking at Isak, all with confused looks on their faces. “Noora, do you, uhm, know where Eva is?” Noora takes a look around, eyes still half closed.

 

“Not here?” She mutters.

 

Jonas and Mahdi slowly seem to take in their surroundings, looking at Isak and then at Noora.

 

Mahdi gets up and goes knock on his friends’ bedroom doors. Eva is not there either. Noora tries to call her, but they find her phone with her bag lying in a corner of the living room.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. We have our train in two hours,” Jonas says. They all look at each other, petrified. “Fuck,” he repeats.

 

“Do you - do you know all the people who were here last night?” Noora asks Mahdi, voice trembling.

 

“I - I can ask my friends. For numbers. And stuff. Sure.” Mahdi leaves and knocks again. 

 

“I can’t believe we were so out of it, we didn’t realize Eva left, what kind of friends are we -” Noora plops on the sofa, hands in her hair.

 

“I’m sure Mahdi will resolve this soon,” Jonas says, but he doesn’t sound that sure himself.

 

“Sure he will,” Isak says, trying to convince himself.

 

They’re all staring at their phones, for lack of anything else to do. Isak is about to write something to Even, just to distract himself, when the phone starts to ring.

 

“Hey,” Isak answers, not bothering to pretend he’s in a different mood from the one he currently is in. Even senses it immediately.

 

“Hey. Everything’s alright?”

 

“No - uhm, I was going to write you in a minute. We’re at a friend of Mahdi’s, and like, we have no fucking idea of where Eva is.”

 

“Shit. Doesn’t she have her phone with her? Is it off?”

 

“No, she forgot her bag here - Mahdi is talking to his friends who live here and I think they’re contacting whoever was here last night. It’s just -”

 

“Isak.”

 

“I feel awful, you know? No one of us realized she left. And -”

 

“Isak,” Even interrupts him again. “I wish - well, I fucking wish I could be there. But they sadly haven’t invented teleportation yet, so if you want I can distract you by saying stupid things.”

 

“Thanks. You’re really good at that.” Isak sighs. 

 

“So, uhm, yesterday I was having dinner with my parents at this really cool restaurant not far away from my place, and you know what happened? I took a picture of the plate when it first arrived. Can you believe that? I am becoming an instagram person without actually having instagram.”

 

“I can’t believe you made fun of me because of this only, like, two weeks ago.”

 

“That was because you still haven’t taken my camera away from me and transformed me into  _ a monster _ . How is it going anyway? Is she okay?”

 

“ _ She _ ?” Isak mocks him. “ _ She _ is fine, anyway. I finished a whole roll of film.”

 

“Cool. We’re bringing it to the shop tomorrow then.” 

 

“If we make it back. We have the train in less than two hours.”

 

“Crap. No updates from Mahdi?”

 

“No, he’s still in his friend’s room. It’s awful, there’s not much we can’t do.”

 

“I think talking on the phone with me it’s actually a lot you’re doing.”

 

“Right. Thanks. Really. It means a lot, although you didn’t really know what was going on.”

 

“Oi, do not underestimate my superpowers. I  _ sensed  _ something was wrong.” Isak chuckles. The thing is, Isak really does believe Even has some super powers. How does he manage to make Isak feel better so easily? Even, someone who has known Isak for less than two months. 

 

And he’s calmer now, somehow. He  _ knows  _ that they will find Eva soon and they will get on that train. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry for the abrupt ending, I guess?)


	6. Piramide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of plans, cats, and a picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow sorry for the super-long wait! (Luckily no one is interested enough to send me anon messages on Tumblr so it's all good anyway)  
> It is kind of weird to post a new chapter today, I can't believe that Skam will be over in like 6 hours.  
> Hope you guys like it and sorry again for the long wait. :)

Isak:

We found her!! she was with a friend of Mahdi and called us like right after we hung up. we're now on the way to the train. 

 

Even: 

are you actually texting me what the hell this is so disrespectful i'm changing my number tomorrow 

 

Even:

kidding. i'm glad. :) 

 

> 00:05
> 
> to: [ivaltersen@gmail.com ](mailto:ivaltersen@gmail.com), [nooramalie@gmail.com ](mailto:nooraamalia@gmail.com), [jvasquez@gmail.com ](mailto:jvasquez@gmail.com), [ebnaesheim@gmail.com](mailto:ebnaesheim@gmail.com)
> 
> from: [evakmohn@gmail.com](mailto:evakmohn@gmail.com)
> 
> re: love u 
> 
>  
> 
> guys!! honestly, stop apologizing!! my fault for forgetting the bag there. and i didn’t come to any of you to tell you i was leaving. everything is fine. i’m sorry!! 
> 
> really. 
> 
> i love u all and thanks for worrying. <333 

* 

“You know what, I keep on thinking, what if he was a fucking asshole, what if - what if something bad happened and we haven’t seen her leave. And she keeps on saying that she’s sorry, can you believe that?” 

It is Monday afternoon, and Isak and Even are on the underground to get to Even’s place after their classes. They had a change of plans that morning, the movie evening is canceled because it is such a beautiful day. It is not worth spending closed at home, Even decided. Isak can’t get his mind off the Eva thing, even if nothing bad happened; they got on their train, Eva is fine. But Isak cannot stop thinking about the endless alternatives. 

 

Even hugs Isak then, kissing him on the forehead. Isak closes his eyes, grateful. Even knows exactly that this is what he needs right now, not words of comfort, a kiss, a hug. Because the world around disappears when Isak feels Even’s arms around him. They stay like this until they have to get off, so lost in their little world they almost miss their stop. They rush out of the train, bumping into the people who are getting on the train. Someone shouts something at them, but they don't understand, and they don't care. 

"You know what, Isak, you're an amazing friend." Even says all of a sudden, as they're walking to the shop to collect the developed pictures. "I mean, not that I can't talk from personal experience. We haven't been anything more than mortal enemies, you and me." Isak snorts. 

"Whoever told you is a great liar." Even looks at him, eyebrows raised. "But thanks, anyway. You aren't that bad yourself. That's what I heard, at least."  

They go into the shop then, the employee greeting them and giving Even the envelope with the pictures.

“This is a new one,” Even says, handing him Isak’s roll of film. Isak is excited, in a few days the photos he took over the weekend will come to life. And now, he can finally see the picture Even took of him. 

“So, are we going home to look at the pictures?” Isak asks. He's ridiculously curious about the photo of him, the one at the Colosseum. Or on the Palatine Hill. Or wherever Even took it, Isak has no clue. 

“No, it’s late already,” Even answers, though.  

“For what?” 

“For the thing we have to do now.” Isak rolls his eyes. 

“You said no more surprises.” 

“I said for the weekend. Now it’s Monday.” Despite the constant eye-rolling, Isak finds himself following Even anyway. His body doesn't seem to follow any input coming from his brain when it comes to Even. 

“You know that your legs are longer, right?” 

“Oh, yes. I remember. The whole thing for which you apparently get tired easily.” 

“I’m saying this because you should walk slower or else I can’t keep up with your pace and then I'll get tired.” Even doesn’t say anything to that. He starts to walk faster, though, and even if Isak stays behind he can easily imagine that smirk on Even's face. He can see it even if right now the only thing Isak can see it’s his back. A beautiful back, nonetheless, but the back of a person that is walking too fast. 

They’re in the underground again, and Isak can’t believe that Even made him run although they only had to take it for three stops. They’re in Piramide, which, surprisingly enough, means Pyramid. It is where Isak usually takes the underground to go to Uni. Nothing remotely surprising or exciting about this place. 

“I don’t have the guide with me but I came with my parents yesterday so I remember about this. This pyramid was built as a tomb for some rich Roman person.” 

“Wow. Is this all?” Isak has to admit that he has wondered what was a pyramid doing in Rome but never bothered to check it online. 

“Yes.” 

“You actually forgot the guide at home.” 

“Yes.”

“So was this the surprise?” 

“Isak Valtersen, do you think that I would make you hurry for a tiny replica of an Egyptian pyramid?” 

“Well. Yes. I also have to tell you that I walk past this place every day.”  

“So you must know what’s behind the corner.” 

“A street? A post office, I think?” Isak tries to focus but he can't remember anything else. "Listen, I'm always on the bus and it's always crowded. I don't do sightseeing while I'm struggling with personal space." 

“Really? On the other side of the street. You've never seen it?" 

“Houses? Are we going to break into someone’s house?” Isak suggests. He regrets it immediately, though. He's sure that now Even will take it into consideration for their next adventure. 

“See, that is why I gave you the camera. To help you widen your horizons. Look around yourself more.” Even gestures wildly around himself, although all Isak can see is the chaotic traffic of the city. He takes out the camera of his bag and takes a picture, simply out of spite. "This is not what I meant," Even complains, as they're crossing the street. 

They turn the corner and still, Isak doesn’t see anything. They’re on a tiny street and there’s a gate on the left, opening into a place Isak has never seen before. It looks like a garden, but it's something else. Well, a graveyard. 

“Is that a graveyard?” Isak asks, stating the obvious. 

“Great spirit of observation, Isak. You're doing better already.” 

“So we were in a hurry to go to a graveyard.” Even groans and takes Isak by the hand, guiding him into the cemetery. “So. Ok. I’m waiting for the flow of information,” he adds then. Isak tries not to let it show how emotional he is. Why is the fact that Even is holding his hand making him so emotional? Isak has no clue.

“This place is the non-catholic cemetery of Rome, also known as the English cemetery, where non-catholic people in Rome were buried. Well, mostly Protestant people anyway. Also, there are a lot of cats.” 

“Buried here?” Isak teases him. As soon as he says it, a cat crosses their way. 

“Yes. That was one of the ghost cats that live around here.” They stand still for a while, then, their fingers still intertwined, and the city feels miles away. Isak’s thoughts go fast, first thinking about that Beatles’ song about holding hands, which suddenly makes a whole lot of sense. Of the fact that there are poets buried there, in that graveyard. They could describe what Isak is now feeling so well, while his brain is an incoherent mess of thoughts. All he can think about is how he doesn’t want to let go of Even's hand, not now, not ever. That he feels safe, although right now they’re in a place that most people would define anything but safe. He wants to know what Even’s thinking, too. But the more he looks into his eyes, the more Isak feels there are more and more mysteries that have to be unraveled about him. 

“You know what, Isak,” Even says then, “I’d love for us to stay here the whole evening but I don’t think we have too much time left to visit the place.” 

“Right,” Isak says, voice weak. He lets go of Even’s hand, then. He remembers that he has a camera in his other hand and he’s supposed to take pictures with it. He also remembers that Even hasn’t still shown him the pictures from last time, the envelope now in his backpack. But he supposes this is part of some evil master plan of his, so Isak doesn’t point it out. They walk slowly through the cemetery, reading the inscriptions, making them up when they’re written in Cyrillic. 

“What if a relative comes over right now and we’re here, disrespecting the grave..” 

“This person died more than 100 years ago, Isak, I doubt relatives are still visiting him.” 

“What if his great-great-grandchildren heard so much about him because he was an incredible man and so they come, once a while?” Even shrugs.

“You make up the most ridiculous shit,” he teases Isak, and they start walking again. 

"But wouldn't it be cool, though? If their families still cared, after more than 100 years?" Isak asks, thinking back on their conversation on the Palatine Hill. 

"I don't know, weren' you the one who said only to worry about the present, and who cares about the world in 100 years or something?" Even teases him. 

"That is something I said only because I was trying to seduce you." 

"And I cannot believe it worked!" Even says, pretending to be offended by it.  

 

There are a few graves for the cats too, which Isak can’t help but take pictures of. Even shakes his head. “You and your Instagram pictures…” 

Isak loves how excited Even gets when they reach a grave he remembers from his visit the day before. He loves how different his tone is, how affectionate Even gets when he talks about his parents. 

“Oh, this one. This one would be Jonas’ favorite one,” Even says, as they reach one of the few graves with an Italian name on it. 

“And why is that?” 

“This man here, he was one of the co-founders of the Italian Communist party." 

“Was he? It’s weird Jonas doesn’t spend his days mourning him here.” Isak can see, though, that there really are a lot of people who still mourn him daily. There are some flowers lying on the grave, some folded pieces of paper. He wonders what it is written on it, but he doesn't dare to pick them up. Isak is about to take a picture, kneeling down in front of the grave, when Even suddenly starts to recite something: 

“ _The point of modernity is to live a life without illusions while not becoming disillusioned_.” Isak looks away from the viewfinder of the camera, and back to Even, who is holding some cards and reading from one of them. 

“What are those now?" He asks. 

“Flashcards. With quotes from famous people buried here.” 

“I see,” he says, as if it was completely normal. Who doesn't go to a graveyard carrying flashcards in his backpack? Isak looks back into the camera, finally taking the picture of the composition of flowers on the grave, trying to catch an interesting angle of that. When he looks back at Even, he hasn’t moved an inch, standing still and with that smirk on his face that Isak still has to learn to decode. 

“What?” He asks, although he knows - that, at least, he knows - that he will only get a shrug in response. 

“Nothing, it - you looked cute, all twisted to take the picture at a weird angle. I can’t believe you’re really enjoying it.” 

“I’m not, of course. It is -” 

“Oh c’mon. Admit it.” 

“Not even in a thousand years. Never.” They smile at each other, softly. And Isak thinks that all of this, their constant teasing, their soft smiles afterward, this is something that feels so natural, as if they have done it for their whole life. 

And he thinks that he is still waiting for the spirits of the poets to lend him some of their words to describe how this all makes him feel inside. 

 

“Ok, this is our next stop," Even says, stopping in front of a grave with a name that sounds familiar to Isak. 

“I feel like I should know this person.” 

“Probably… you know Frankenstein?” 

“Yes? Wasn’t it written by a woman, though?” 

“Yes, exactly. This man right here is her husband.” 

“Don’t talk like he’s right in front of us, it’s creepy.” Even gets all serious then.  

"Nice to see you again, Percy. This here is Isak. I know, I know, he's really good looking..." 

"Stop it," Isak says, not sounding too convincing. He has probably turned the same shade of red of a ripe tomato. 

“Ok, listen up. _When my cats aren't happy, I'm not happy. Not because I care about their mood but because I know they're just sitting there thinking up ways to get even._ ” 

“This person here was an important poet and this is all you’ve got?” 

“Well, it would have been too obvious if I went with a romantic quote, wouldn’t it?” Isak rolls his eyes. 

“Of course. Why am I even asking.” 

 

The final stop of their visit, after a dissertation about a Norwegian sculptor buried there and the supposed relationship he had with an English writer, is in a different area of the cemetery, where there are only sparse graves, in the shadow of the Pyramid. 

“Have you seen Bright Star?” Isak looks at him, and Even knows the answer already. “Oh, we have to see it then.” 

“We still have the double feature of Romeo+Juliet though.” 

“I will pretend your concern was sincere and not at all sarcastic.” 

“I am concerned about the ridiculous quote you are about to read, that's for sure.” The grave is that of John Keats, which Isak has heard somewhere, probably in some English class he had in high school, but he can’t remember anything more about it. He slept through a lot of English classes, though. 

They sit on the bench in front of the grave. It has no name on it, only an inscription.  

“Ok, here it is. _Life is Divine Chaos. It's messy, and it's supposed to be that way._ ” 

“It doesn’t feel this way, here. I mean, right here, now.” Isak gestures around him. Even looks down, and then at the grave, lost in his thoughts. 

“No, it doesn’t,” he says. “I like the calmness, here.” 

“Sometimes, though, I guess, we need the chaos, otherwise how would we know how special this is?” Even looks back at the graves in front of them, absent-mindedly stroking Isak’s right hand in his. He looks back at Isak then, but he looks melancholic somehow. 

“Maybe,” he answers. Isak has the feeling Even has much more to say on the subject, but what he says instead is, “you know, my parents asked me who I was constantly writing and talking with. So, I kind of, uh, told them. That I’m going out with you.” 

“Did you? Really?” Isak asks, surprised. 

“Yeah. So, um, the thing is, they’re probably coming back again next month and they said that if you’re not, like, embarrassed, they’d love to meet you.” 

“Oh.”

“You don’t want to? It’s no problem, really.” 

“No, no. I’d love to.” 

“But?” 

“It’s - okay, this is something I’m not proud of. I - well, I don’t - I’ve never had a long relationship, that I told you. And all the time, I’d just tell my mom I was seeing someone and she just - she took for granted that it was a girl - and, well, the thing is, I’ve never corrected her.” Even squeezes Isak’s hand then, and Isak is glad once again for his silent support. “It’s like - it’s a long and boring story and I - well, I hope that I haven’t let you down or something.” 

“No, no. Isak. I’m quite aware of the fact that the relationship that I have with my parents it’s special. I’m lucky that they’ve always supported me no matter what, and I’m aware of the fact that not all the parents are like that. And you shouldn’t tell her until you feel like doing it.” 

“Thanks. It’s - you know, it’s like, it’s easier to just, like, be out with people you didn’t know before. Coming out to Jonas was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life… and with my mom… it’s a thing that has been going on for so long that I don’t know anymore if I’ll ever find the right words to say it.” 

“I know,” Even says, and once again, Isak has the feeling he has a lot more to say on the subject, but he stays silent.

A cat meows, catching their attention, distracting them from their thoughts. 

 

They get out of the cemetery a while later,  because it is about to close down. Isak kisses him as soon as they're back on the street, still wishing for the souls of the poets to whisper inside his ears the right words to say, the right words to describe what Even makes him feel, right in that moment, as he holds him close, close, closer. 

 

"I haven't told you before I think, but I moved out when I was 16." They decide to walk back to Jonas and Isak's place, and he tells Even about his family.   It is not something Isak likes to talk about, but after telling Even about not coming out with his mom, he feels like he needs to tell him more about it. He tells Even about how his dad decided to leave, how Isak found himself unable to stay at home any longer. He tells Even about Jonas and his family helping him until Isak was able to find a room in a shared apartment with other people. 

"It took me a lot of time to come to terms with her, uh, situation," Isak explains. Even is weirdly quiet, nodding every now and then.  "And my dad... I can't believe he made me feel guilty for the whole situation when he was the one to leave me alone with her." He explains how, for a long time, he truly believed he was responsible for his mom's poor health. He tells how important Jonas was to him, because Jonas made him realize that he, a 16-year-old child, shouldn't have been the one to take care of his parents. Isak tells Even about how long it took him to have a decent relationship with his father ("I don't think we'll ever get to anything more than decent, you know?"). Isak takes a picture of Even as they walk on the bridge on the Tiber, while the sun is setting down, and Even looking down at the river, absorbed in his thoughts. 

 

When they make it back to the apartment, they don't expect anyone to be home. Instead, Jonas, Eva and Noora are in the kitchen, sat around the table.

“So, the ‘we hate Isak and Even’ club session is closed for today," Jonas says as soon as he sees the two of them.

“Ha ha ha. What are you guys up to?” Isak asks.

“Deciding whether to cook something or order pizza.” 

“There’s, like, some cheese and some salad in the fridge,” Isak points out. 

“Right. Pizza then. Do you want to join us?” Isak and Even exchange a look. They weren’t expecting anyone to be home. 

“I don’t think they really want to join us -” Eva starts to say, but Even interrupts her.

“Oh no, it’s cool. We can all have pizza together.”

“We still kind of like you,” Isak says. 

“Ooooowww, we! They're already in the we phase!” Jonas says in a high pitched voice. 

“I changed my mind, I only like Eva and Noora. Jonas can get out.” 

“I still pay half the rent, man.” 

“Shit. Okay, then.” 

“We’re going out later though," Noora says, trying to be subtle with the other two but failing completely.

“Are we?” 

“Sure we are, Jonas,” Eva says, also failing at the whole subtlety thing. 

“Okay, okay. We’re going out later. Planned weeks ago, how could I forget."  

 

*

 

Isak barely waits for his friends to close the door behind them, a while later, after a pizza and a few beers, to drag Even to his bedroom. Mouths crashing, hands everywhere, their clothes off as soon as they reach Isak's room. 

 

It's only later, when they're lying in bed, Isak's head on Even's chest, Even stroking his hair, that he says: 

"There was another quote I wrote down on the flashcards, that I didn't want to read before." 

"What was it?" Isak asks, looking up at Even. He kisses him gently on the forehead before answering. 

" _The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?_ ” They kiss again, slower now, and Isak realizes that Even's heart is beating as fast as his. 

 

*

 

Isak wakes up the next morning, alone in his bed. He's worried that Even left but, as soon as he thinks that, he hears his voice coming from the kitchen. He can't distinguish their words, but he knows that Even and Jonas are laughing about something. Isak is about to get up to join them, when he notices a picture lying on the pillow. It is him, on the Palatine Hill, sat on the grass, eyes closed, absorbing the sunlight, a huge smile on his face. He doesn't think anyone has made him look so beautiful before. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The non-catholic cemetery is one of my favorite place in Rome (if not my favorite actually). [Here](http://www.cemeteryrome.it/graves/notable.html) you can read more about it.
> 
> also if you want to cry with me about skam being over just write me @ [tumblr](http://books-figuero.tumblr.com/) <3


End file.
